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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28775376">SOS From Deep Space</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazylyhopeless/pseuds/crazylyhopeless'>crazylyhopeless</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action &amp; Romance, Alcohol, Conjunx Endura, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Human Experimentation, Human/Transformer Relationships (Transformers), Implied/Referenced Drug Use, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Reader is bisexual, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Swearing, The Transformers: Lost Light, The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye (IDW), human reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:35:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28775376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazylyhopeless/pseuds/crazylyhopeless</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As one of Earth's liaisons with Cybertron, you are ordered to join the Lost Light crew and Megatron to find the Knights of Cybertron. That was it, that was the goal, and when you stepped onto the ship it seemed pretty straight forward. However, nothing is ever that easy for you or the Lost Light crew. You have suddenly become trapped in the middle of nowhere surrounded by lethal centuries old toddlers. Well, most of them are lethal.<br/>-<br/>This work starts around the time Megatron joins the crew of the Lost Light.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chromedome/Rewind (Transformers), Cyclonus/Tailgate (Transformers), Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet, Megatron (Transformers)/You, Rodimus | Rodimus Prime/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Welcome to the Jungle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys, this is my first fic I’ve written in awhile so sorry if it’s not the best and has some errors, I’ll try my best to get them all when I proof read it. Also I’m trying to follow what happens in the comics, but if I mess up or miss something I’m sorry. In saying that I’m not planning on including everything that happened, I might just mention it briefly. Also, I’m just following the comics when it comes to the MTMTE series and Lost Light series, so if something is mentioned that didn’t happen or exist in other comics that’s why. Thank you for stopping by to give this a read though!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I had only been on Cybertron for a day when I got the call from my superior. To be honest at first I was happy he called, as I was on my way to meet Starscream, and that's just a big fat no on my end. During training on Earth, I'd had to hear that annoying squeaky voice enough times while watching tapes from the war. If I had to hear it again I think my ears would promptly bleed and then fall off. </p><p> </p><p>"Agent (l/n), I know you are fresh out of training, and it's only your first day on Cybertron, and I regret to inform you of this, but we have a mission for you," Agent Fowler, an old man, probably in his fifties, stared at me with dead eyes through the screen of the computer. I'd met the grouch about a year into my training, as the government saw it fit that I should actually learn from someone who spent quality time with the Autobots. However, if you ask Fowler about it, he will say this "quality time" was more like being a babysitter to a bunch of robot toddlers. "I know you haven't had much time to explore Cybertron, I'm sure it's a thrill, but life sucks so march your ass on that ship (l/n).”</p><p> </p><p>"A mission back on Earth sir?" I really hoped this was a no, I had to space bridge here and it was not pleasant. It felt like riding a rollercoaster into a tornado at the speed of light. </p><p> </p><p>"No, you'll be joining Megatron on his journey with Rodimus and his merry crew to find those magic Knights of Cybertron or whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>"What."</p><p> </p><p>"You heard me, don't "what" me with that face. I can see the disappointment. Look, he's being charged for his crimes but they gotta find some mystical space knights first. I don't know why, I've never been a very religious man. Since he has committed many, many crimes against the human race, Earth wants to send one of our own aboard to make sure those crimes are taken into account." I can see him rub his forehead, the tiredness pouring off of him. He'd probably spent the whole last two nights doing paperwork just to get me on that tin can. </p><p> </p><p>"Why me? Why not Agent Watson?" </p><p> </p><p>"Agent Watson? You two really aren't all buddy buddy anymore huh?" </p><p> </p><p>A glare through the screen was sufficient enough to make him straighten up in his seat. </p><p> </p><p>"Look there's two reasons; one Agent Watson and Bumblebee are good friends apparently, and the government sees that as an asset. So they want her to remain on Cybertron. Two, you're Canadian. Everyone loves Canadians, you're all so polite and shit," He shifts in his seat, as my glare deepened, "Well most of you at least Jesus. You frown any harder and I think you'll morph into that grumpy cat."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry what?"</p><p> </p><p>"That funny cat who's always mad you know? It's the only thing that makes me laugh-hey don't give me that look! It is funny! Stop it! I am not a boomer, no matter what my daughter says." </p><p> </p><p>I run a hand down my face, hoping, praying it would wipe everything I had just heard from my memory. "So, I'm guessing I don't get much of a choice in this?" </p><p> </p><p>Agent Fowler deadpanned, and stale static filled the air for a moment. "Unless," he took in a breath, "You'd like to discuss a trade with Agent Watson?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'll do it."</p><p> </p><p>-------</p><p>Luckily, I was not escorted on board with Megatron. Ratchet carried me on board. I had briefly met the medic on Earth when he visited the training center. Apparently human medics were not capable enough to teach us about Cybertronian biology. My luggage had already been loaded by a small mech who seemed to be practically vibrating the whole time he was near me. He couldn't even form enough words to tell me his name, though Ratchet informed me on our way onto the Lost Light that he was a loud mouth named Swerve. Ratchet went on to complain about sometime he'd almost killed some bot named Rang or something. I wasn’t really listening though, as unprofessional as it was. I couldn’t help it, I was distracted by the platform I was currently resting on. <em>Are those new hands?</em></p><p> </p><p>"(Y/n)?" My head pops up, realizing I had been staring at his hands. Straightening my back, I brush some invisible dust off the black pant suit I was wearing. <em>Or power suits as Fowler calls them. </em></p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, I was staring off into space Ratchet, what were you saying?" </p><p> </p><p>"I said, are you sure you can handle being on a ship full of beings all two or three times your height? You could literally die at any moment. Not to mention what if the oxygen tanks glitch or run out, or there is always the possibility you could get sucked out into the vacuum of space. Or what if you are swept up in some idiots prank-we have a lot of those on board, both the idiot and the pranks part-"</p><p> </p><p>"Ratchet, you are rambling," his optics widen and he turns his helm away rubbing the back of it with his free hand, "You really think they would've sent me on this mission if they thought I'd die from being stepped on? I can take care of myself, better than most humans. I'll be okay." </p><p> </p><p>"I suppose you are right, though I don't see how you are more fit then your fellow liaisons." </p><p> </p><p>The rest of the walk through the halls of the Lost Light were silent, in exception for bots running left and right. Watching them run by, I realize I can recognize a few from training videos. Brainstorm, taught to us to be "the genius", was running past us carrying what appears to be a briefcase handcuffed to his hand. Following him down the yellowish metal halls, was a red mech with a giant telescope on his shoulder, who I assume is Perceptor. He seems to be chasing the blue and yellow mech with what looks to be a giant wrench, and screaming swears at him. He seems like a very gentle soul.</p><p> </p><p>"Ignore them," Ratchet grunts, rolling his optics, "they're always arguing with each other." Rounding a corner, we came to another bland hallway, except this one was filled with doors with numbers on them. "I made sure you got a habsuite to yourself, I know how fickle some of you humans are about your privacy, not that I don't enjoy it myself, but how particular you are about it, what with the whole changing clothes, and showering thing.”</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry not all of us are gifted with bodies that have built in armour Ratchet."</p><p> </p><p>"Are you gonna rant about this again because if so I've come about with some better points on why human bodies- Sorry, Ultra Magnus is calling me. Yes Magnus? I'm sorry, say that again? Whirl stuck his foot in what?! Yes, I'll be down there right away." Pinching the bridge of his nose, his feet came to stop in front of a door, which had to be at least twenty feet tall, "Sorry I have to go deal with this, I'd invite you to come but honestly it's something you probably shouldn't see. Or want to see. This is your room, call me or Rodimus if you need anything okay?"</p><p> </p><p>Nodding, up at him, I wave him goodbye as he races back through the hallway we had just walked down, swears leaking out as he ran. Turning back to the huge door, I realize it had been modified slightly for myself. A small pad was located to the right of the door, and when I tapped on it, a smaller door, more close to my size, on the right of the pad opened. <em>Huh, I'm surprised they even thought of that. Maybe this won't be so bad, I mean it's not often you get to travel through space with a bunch of aliens, including an ex-war lord who slaughtered thousands of your people, and a kinda-sorta-not really Prime. I mean who knows, maybe I’ll make some new friends, and it’ll all be like some Disney movie. Wait a minute, have I always been this tall? </em>Before I could even take a step into my room I was swept off my feet by a pair of hands. <em>How the fuck do you let a huge ass Cybertronian sneak up on you (y/n)? </em></p><p> </p><p>"Oh my Primus, look at you, you're so small and cute, I've never seen an alien like you before!" A very short blue and white mech practically giggles as he stares down at me in his tiny white hands. </p><p> </p><p>"Tailgate put the human down," A much, much taller purple mech with horns like the devils spoke as he came up behind him. </p><p> </p><p>Instead of putting me down however, the small mech holds me closer to his bright blue visor, "Hi! It's so nice to meet you, I'm Tailgate, I've never met a human before, Swerve always talks about you guys!" I don't know how it was possible but the mechs visor got brighter as he rambles on. A large clawed hand placed itself on Tailgate's shoulder followed by a heavy sigh from the devilish mech. </p><p> </p><p>"I apologize, Tailgate gets excited very easily." At these words, the smaller mech's visor shows more expression than I ever thought possible by a visor, as Tailgate dawns the biggest pout I'd ever seen. </p><p> </p><p>"It's quite-"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my Primus your voice is so cute too!"</p><p> </p><p>"-alright, it's nice to meet you too Tailgate and?"</p><p> </p><p>"Cyclonus."</p><p> </p><p>"Cyclonus, my name is (y/n)." </p><p> </p><p>"You're the liaison from Earth that Rodimus was telling everyone about right? That's so cool you get to join us on our epic mission, let me tell you though it does get pretty dangerous, but don't worry.” Tailgate put his fingers up to his helm in a mock salute, “Cy and I here are pretty strong, you should see this wicked sword he has, it's linked to his spark and-"</p><p> </p><p>"Tailgate I think you are boring the liaison, I'm sure she doesn't care." The pout from before quickly returns to the shorter mechs face, and the two then start to bicker like an old married couple. <em>Great. </em>The bickering starts to get more heated as their voices grew louder, making me cover my ears. After a quip from the taller mech about the smaller mechs size, Tailgate decides to make a quick turn to face Cylconus, and I was thrown off his hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Tailgate!" As quickly as I'd fallen, two metal claws shot out underneath me, catching me, "Be more careful!"</p><p> </p><p>The small blue and white mech's whole posture changes once more, and it almost looks like he was going to begin crying. "I'm so sorry (y/n)! I've never been around humans and I was being so clumsy." <em>Oh my god, </em>I thought as I stood up in Cyclonus's hands, before walking back into Tailgate's, <em>he's like a scolded toddler. It's adorable. </em></p><p> </p><p>"It's okay, no harm was done, so no worries." Tailgate still seemed unconvinced, his visor showing more guilt and emotion in them than I'd ever seen in any Cybertronian's optics. <em>He’s like out of a cartoon or something, how the hell is he so expressive. </em>"Tell you what," I say, holding in my internal awe at how adorable this mech was, "Why don't you make it up to me by giving me a tour of the ship?"</p><p> </p><p>"Of course we'd love to!" He instantly perked up, "Right Cy?"</p><p> </p><p>"Fine." </p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p><em>Note: never ask Cyclonus and Tailgate to give you a tour of the Lost Light ever again. </em>The last hour had been spent touring not even an eighth of the ship, and so far I was starting to agree with what Ratchet had said about the crew. The first stop we had made was at the Oil Reservoir, where we had met up with another blue bot named Riptide. The new mech had then decided I needed to see his alt mode after stating, "I can't believe you've been deprived of the awesomeness that is a boat alt mode," to which he then transformed and almost covered the three of us in oil. We left pretty soon after that. The next pale yellow door we came to opened up to what look to be a laboratory, with instruments everywhere, on the walls, tables, and some even left on the floor. Inside this mess of inventions was Brainstorm and Perceptor, still arguing, and working on what looked to be some kind of gun. Before Cylonus, Tailgate or I could say anything, the argument got more heated, and the gun misfired almost taking out Cyclonus's good horn. Tailgate dragged him out of there pretty quick. After that, we travelled further into the ship passing a couple of mechs on our way, who seemed to all do double takes when they saw me in Tailgates palm. I guess it had been awhile since they’d last seen a human. We then came to a halt in front of the med bay, and I thanked God I could finally see Ratchet again, the one sane soul on this ship. However, my mood quickly changed as the doors opened to a horrific sight. Whirl-at least that's who I assumed it was-had his foot stuck in a half transformed bot who looked as though he was ready to curl up and cry "Mommy." A smaller medic seemed to be ignoring the whole scene as he came over to say hello, and acting as though Ratchet wasn't inventing new swears behind him to yell at Whirl. First Aid-as I learned his name was- seemed eerily cool with the whole thing, and began asking us how our day was going. The three of us didn't stay long to chat though, as Whirl had started yelling back. </p><p> </p><p>And, that brings me to where we are now, wandering down another bleak yellow hallway. </p><p> </p><p>"I'd stay away from Whirl," Cyclonus states, as we turn the corner from the med bay. </p><p> </p><p>"Noted." I simply reply, the image of the wailing mech had been seared into my brain already. Cyclonus went to open his mouth again, when a sudden crackle came from my pocket. </p><p> </p><p>"(y/n)?" A deep commanding voice broke from the data pad, and I quickly fumble to pull it out of the pocket of my pant suit.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes?" </p><p> </p><p>"This is Ultra Magnus, please come to the Bridge promptly." With another loud crackle, the call cut out. Tailgate had already changed direction, heading towards what I hope is the Bridge. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't be too scared of Mags (y/n)," Tailgate chimes in, "He sounds so serious all the time but he's a big softie." </p><p> </p><p>Grinning to myself I nod, turning to face him instead of the halls, "Yes, if I remember the last time I saw him he was scolding my classmate for using inappropriate margins on their assignment."</p><p> </p><p>"Ultra Magnus taught you?!"</p><p> </p><p>"No, he was simply visiting a professor at the University. But, he almost threw a tantrum when he saw poor Victor's assignment, and then gave us a three hour speech on proper margin use. He wasn't even supposed to be in our classroom." The slightest smile dawns my face at the memory, "I saw him a couple times after that too, but once the war ended I never saw him again." </p><p> </p><p>"That's nothing, he spent practically a whole day once teaching me about the semicolon! The semicolon (y/n)!" Tailgate let out a loud groan, as though thinking of the memory caused him pain, and I swear at that moment I hear the smallest chuckle slip out of Cyclonus's mouth. We quickly came to a stop in front of two huge-and guess what-pale yellow doors. I was just starting to say goodbye when the doors flew open, and my eyes flew to take in the Bridge. I expected there to be way more bots on the bridge than there was, but I didn't have much time to focus on the others in the room. Two skyscrapers demanded attention, and practically oozed out the demand for respect. Ultra Magnus and who could be no one else but Megatron, stood near the middle of the room. I could practically feel the tenseness between the two from the door. However, I didn't get much time to marvel at the two behemoths before me, as my vision was covered by-and I swear to God on this-a fucking sun. Two yellow hands shot out and stole me from Tailgate's.</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks for dropping her off guys! You must be (y/n)! It's so cool to finally meet you!" The extremely bright mech before me beams, and somehow got brighter. <em>Jesus, someone get me some sunglasses please I'm about to go blind. </em>The mech then sweeps me across the room to where Megatron and Ultra Magnus are standing, and I stare up in awe for a second. <em>God, I forgot how intimidatingly tall these aliens could be. </em></p><p> </p><p>"Rodimus, please be careful with the liaison she is not a toy," Ultra Magnus booms out, reaching his hands out as though I might fall at any moment. Rodimus's heavy grip doesn’t  allow for that though. At the moment, I was cocooned in his lightning yellow coloured hands. <em>Why are they so warm?</em></p><p> </p><p>"Aww c'mon Mags, my human buddies back on Earth never seemed to mind," Rodimus’s hands loosen their grip on me, allowing me to stand up, and brush the wrinkles out of my outfit, "It's fine, right (y/n)?"</p><p> </p><p><em>Alright (y/n), all optics on you right now, you're an agent, be serious. This is what you trained for. </em>"Actually, Rodimus I have to agree with Ultra Magnus. I don't mind being carried but please don't toss me around." The bright bots whole posture changes giving me déjà vu as he gave Tailgate's pout a run for it's money. <em>You are a professional agent, you are being professional don't swoon at cuteness. </em></p><p> </p><p>"Oh, sorry (y/n) I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." His palms now laid flat allowing me to turn to face the other two mechs. </p><p> </p><p>"It's fine Rodimus," sticking my small hand out at Ultra Magnus I give him a brief smile before letting it leave my face, "Ultra Magnus sir, it's an honor to see you again." <em>Beautiful, so professional, now keep a straight stoic face. Embody Batman. </em></p><p> </p><p>Taking my hand with a single one of his fingers, we "shook" hands as he nods, "Likewise liaison (y/n), I haven't seen you since you were still in University. I hope you've left your rebellious side in your University years." </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What a douchey move Mags. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Never losing a straight face, I stand up straighter and meet his turquoise optics, "That was a long time ago, I've moved on." Ultra Magnus offers me nothing but a nod, and then grabs a data pad from the table beside him. </p><p> </p><p>"(y/n) you understand that this mission we are on is nowhere near safe for your kind? You are purely here to help keep the peace between Earth and Cybertron, so I expect you to stay out of trouble the best you can." </p><p> </p><p>A loud groan escapes from above me, "Jeez, if that's the kind of welcome you were planning for her I would've let Megatron answer the door," rolling his bright sky blue optics, Rodimus peers down at me a large smile taking up his face, "Welcome aboard the Lost Light (y/n), we'll try to make feel at home here as possible." </p><p> </p><p>"Thank you," I give him the smallest grin, which seems to make his whole day the way his face lights up. It quickly turns to confused though, as I go right back to a straight face. "Megatron I'd say it's nice to meet you but I think we both know that'd be pointless."</p><p> </p><p>"Agreed.” <em>God why is his voice sexy, what the actual fuck.</em>"Enjoy your stay here." </p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>Internally, I slapped myself. I'd never lost anyone personally to the war. Though many of friends, neighbours, teachers, and superiors had. I can't remember how many times my University roommate would wake up screaming for her brother only to break down into sobs. Or my fellow liaison, who would often spend nights waiting by the phone for her autobot friend to call her. Just to make sure he was still alive. Or my professor who’s daughter was killed in a crossfire, and was informed of it mid lecture. I could go on forever on all the stories I'd heard. In fact they haunt me, and remind me everyday how stupidly lucky I was. Sure I’ve lost people, but I never had to bury someone because of a war that wasn’t even our own. Which is why I sat here now angrily typing away on my data pad, writing up a report on my journey that Agent Fowler demanded I make at least twice a month. <em>How could I ever have thought that about such a disgusting being? </em> Slowing my typing, I let out a sigh turning to my habsuites window. <em>Maybe it's best I'm here, </em>I think, <em>maybe I deserve this.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Crazy Train</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Bold words means that the characters are talking in Cybtronian, just that common stuff lol none of that old language (yet ;))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Showering was an escape from the world. It allows the water and music to drown out all other sounds, and the heat relaxes the muscles. Then all that’s left is just me and my thoughts. Of course my thoughts aren't always kind. But, when it comes to calming me down, it seems like nothing does it better than a hot shower with some tunes. Right now, Crazy Train by Ozzy Osborne was blasting over the small Bluetooth speaker I had managed to smuggle on board. Not a very relaxing song I know, but come on, it’s Ozzy. I was really taking my time this morning, I’d been kept up all night yesterday. Some could say it was the guilt from my thoughts that kept me up. Others could say it was finding out that Cyclonus and Tailgate were my next door neighbours when I heard them stumbling in drunk at two in the morning. Take your pick. <br/><br/></p><p>Grabbing the shampoo, I start to massage my scalp, hoping it would calm me down more. As my fingers glide over my (h/c) hair, the song hit it’s guitar solo. I quickly lost myself in the notes flying out of the speaker, which meant I also didn’t hear the sound of my habsuite door opening. Or, the creaking noise of the bathroom door opening. <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“Crazy Train? Really I didn’t-“</p><p> </p><p>”RODIMUS OUT OF THE BATHROOM!”</p><p> </p><p>The sunset coloured mech quickly stumbles back out the door shutting it behind him. <em>Thank God this is not a see through shower curtain. </em></p><p> </p><p>”I’m so sorry (y/n)!” Rodimus’s voice meekly comes from behind the metal door, “I’m always forgetting about the whole privacy thing with humans, especially with showering.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>Letting out a long over drawn out sigh, I shut the water off quickly drying my body off before putting on my (f/c) bath robe. Another thing I had managed to smuggle on board and right now I couldn’t be more grateful. Pressing the power button on the speaker it let out a small “Blip!” before shutting itself down. Taking one more deep breath, I strode over the grey metal floors. The coldness of the floors a stark contrast to the hot shower I was just ripped from. The door slide open with a loud hiss and on the other side sat Rodimus, crisscross apple sauce, twiddling his thumbs and looking sheepish. <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“Rodimus, to what do I owe the honour?” My voice came out way more sarcastic than I meant to. I could see the mech visibly flinch at my words, before rubbing the back of his helm. <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“Uh well, funny story, Mags and I were talking, and uh-“ He stops for a moment staring at me before looking away, in the direction of my bed, “Basically, I’m here because Ultra Magnus wanted me to ask you to do something and I felt it’d be easier to explain in person.” <br/><br/></p><p>An awkward pause fills the room, the silence causing Rodimus to fidget more shifting to hug his knees in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>Letting out an awkward cough he finally continues, “He wants you to get a psych evaluation.”</p><p> </p><p>”What.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“I know right! That’s what I said too, at first, but you see it kinda made sense after he explained himself,” obviously I was not impressed with this, crossing my arms over my soft robe, “Okay, okay listen so this journey we’ve been on so far can be really hard on people, especially mentally. He just wants to make sure you’re in good health mentally. So, Mags kinda said this wouldn’t be your only appointment.” <br/><br/><br/><br/>“So, let me get this straight, just to make sure I fully understand what you’re saying,” his helm bobs up and down like a little kids, “Ultra Magnus wants me to get a psych evaluation, regularly, because he’s worried about me?”</p><p> </p><p>”Yep! He’s such a caring bot, but he’ll never admit it.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em>Wasn’t very caring when he pulled me over for speeding. While I’m touched that he would think of my health, I can’t help but wonder if Ultra Magnus had another motivation for this sudden declaration. He doesn’t trust me. Never has.</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>“</em>He must really care about you huh?” <em>Rodimus  obviously has no clue whatsoever. It’s probably best to leave him that way.</em></p><p> </p><p>”Yes, I suppose so,” strolling over to my dresser, I grab some clothes for the day. Going for a more casual look, I pull out a simple pair of blue jeans and a black blouse. <em>I doubt Cybertronians keep up on what’s professional business wear on Earth. </em>“Rodimus?”</p><p> </p><p>”Yeah (y/n)?”</p><p> </p><p>”I’m going to change, can you um,” He quickly gets the memo giving me a thumbs up and letting me know he’ll wait outside. Letting out a huff, I quickly run to the bathroom. My hair was still a wet mess from the shower, as I only had a chance to shampoo it. Grabbing a blow dryer, I dried my hair as best I could, then put it into a long single braid. Walking back out to the main room, I start changing into the clothes I had taken out earlier. <em>Okay, I’ll play your game Ultra Magnus. I know you never fully trusted me, not that I gave you much a reason to trust me. How was a twenty-two year old me supposed to know that the big ass truck parked outside the party was in fact not my cab? </em>Patting my pockets, I look around for my data pad. <em>I mean come on cut a girl some slack. When you are seven shots of vodka deep, not to mention the three paralyzers I had chugged before, a dog would’ve looked like a cab to me. Oh, and I can’t forget the body shots I had also done that night. I wasn’t technically breaking any laws too. </em>Reaching across my bed, I held the data pad up in victory. It had been hiding under a pillow. <em>I had called a cab, I wasn’t even drinking and driving, I was being responsible! <br/><br/></em></p><p>“Okay Rodimus, I’m ready,” I say after opening the door to my habsuite. He greets me with an award winning grin, offering me his hand to step onto. <br/><br/><br/><em>But that was a long time ago, wasn’t it Magnus?</em></p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>“(Y/n), welcome, my names Rung.” <br/><br/></p><p>I’ve never been a huge fan of shrinks. To be honest, they always kinda gave me the creeps, just with the vibe they give off. But, something about him was different. I didn’t get any feeling of authority, in a good way. He didn’t even try to put himself above me, and instead came down to my level. Carefully scooping me from Rodimus’s hands, he places me on a berth beside a large metal chair. <br/><br/></p><p>“Pleasure to meet you as well sir,” my voice came out monotone, never wavering from the professionalism hammered into me by my superiors. “Thank you again for bringing me Rodimus.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“Anytime,” with a smile and a wink he disappears back down the pale yellow hallway. The off white metal doors slide shut behind him, and Rung took his spot beside me on the chair. His office was a lot smaller than I expected. Above the berth, there was multiple shelves filled with models of different ships. I remembered a few from training, though most I didn’t recognize. <br/><br/></p><p>“Ah, I see you’ve noticed my obsession,” he let out a chuckle, “Do you know any of them?” <br/><br/></p><p>Nodding, I point at one closer to the top, “Yes, that’s the original Ark there, and I believe that’s the Lost Light there near the bottom. I also know a couple others but, I can’t remember their names sorry.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh it’s no worry, honestly I’m surprised you knew more than one. Where have you seen them?”  <br/><br/></p><p>“We were shown them when in training sir.” My answer was honest, but vague. If this mech is reporting to Ultra Magnus, there’s no way I am going to give away anything. <em>Not that I don’t have my own dirt on that old mech. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“Please, just call me Rung. Can you tell me about this training? Was it for becoming a liaison?” <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Right to the point I see. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>“Yes, they wanted us to be as familiar as possible with what we knew about Cybertron. That included some of the ships you used.” I pause, making eye contact with his pale blue optics. Upon closer inspection, I notice that they aren’t even his optics. They’re glasses. “I don’t have much to say about training. There’s nothing really to say.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Are you sure?” After a simple nod from me, Rung let’s out a sigh, “If you’re worried that I’ll be telling of this to Rodimus, Ultra Magnus, or anyone for that matter, please know I would never. My patients privacy is my biggest concern. You’re free to be open here.” <br/><br/></p><p>An awkward silence fills the room for a moment, and Rung just looks down at me expectantly. <em>What’s the professional thing to do? Just share the basics? Lie? Or go back to sleep? Probably best to stay safe and only mention what could be found in my file. Though the last option is very tempting.</em><br/><br/></p><p>“I began training about a year and a half after I graduated University. Yes, it was to become a liaison to Cybertron. At the start there was tons of applicants, but most of them just signed up because they thought it’d be cool to go to Cybertron. Most dropped out once they realized it was much more than that. We had to learn multiple ways to speak your language, about your culture and history, we basically studied everything about your race. It’s actually where I met Ratchet, he taught us Cybertronian biology.” <br/><br/></p><p>His little space pen raced across his data pad as I talked. This is another thing that annoys me about shrinks. The constant writing, as though he’s some kind of reporter and I’m Beyoncé.</p><p> </p><p>”I see, I didn’t know humans could speak our language.” Rung’s eyes slide back over to me from his data pad for a moment, before returning.</p><p> </p><p>”It takes lots of practice, it’s part of the reason some applicants were also turned away, their vocal cords couldn’t mimic the way it flows. Our teacher described it once as mechanical singing.” <em>Actually by “some” I mean most. In the end only five of us were able to replicate the noises. </em>“We weren’t just taught about your people. Liaisons were also required to take combat classes, driving lessons, diplomacy, and a whole bunch of basic classes.”</p><p> </p><p>Turning the device over in his hands, he gives me his full attention, “Can you speak it for me? I’m just curious is all.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>“Of course, though I can’t speak it for long. It’s very straining on our vocal cords.” <br/><br/></strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’m amazed!” Removing his glasses, he reveals a pair of beautiful blue optics, “You truly are very accomplished, and for such a young person too.” He places his glasses back on, taking away the sparkling pools away from my sight. <em>Primus really blessed this bot. </em>“I’m sure your life hasn’t been all training though, tell me about your life before that.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How about no?<br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Sure,” <em>fuck, </em>“My life wasn’t very eventful before I went to University. I grew up in a small town in Canada with my mom. My dad had left shortly after I was born so I never knew him. There’s not much to say about my time there. When I was sixteen, my mom passed away.” I pause for a moment, waiting for Rung to comment on my mom. But, he just sits there waiting for me to continue. “After that, I moved to the states to live with my moms brother. I graduated, went to University, graduated from that and became a liaison.” Another silence fills the room, but this time it’s not awkward. Instead it’s almost comforting. <em>God, I hate talking about my past. </em><br/><br/><br/></p><p>“Well, you say it’s uneventful but I feel that was a very brief summary don’t you think?” I just shrug not really sure what to say at his comment, “But, it’s obviously something you aren’t comfortable talking about. Will you tell me more about your mom?”</p><p> </p><p>”No.”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t look surprised at all at that, and just shot me a soft smile, “Ok, how about you tell me what made you want to become a liaison?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>”You... don’t know?”</p><p> </p><p>I simply shrug as a response. Rung just watches me for a moment, then a smile graces his face. Picking me up from the hard metal berth, he brings me over to the door and bids me goodbye. Of course not before scheduling another meeting</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><br/>What a cryptic mother fucker. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p><br/>One would think being on a ship filled with an alien race in the middle of nowhere in deep space would be a blast! But, so far I’d been on the ship for a whole week, and I was bored out of my mind. My days were mostly filled with working out, reports and being bugged by Tailgate or Rodimus. How the Captain of the Lost Light found time to bother me on a daily basis I will never understand. At the worst moments too. One night, he’d just waltzed in on me mid squat, and promptly left. It’s like no one ever taught the mech how to knock! He wasn’t the only mech getting on my nerves though. While I avoided Megatron like the plague, it seemed like he was always in the med bay or in the Bridge when I was. </p><p> </p><p>One time, I’d wandered down to the med bay to visit Ratchet. Except, I was greeted by an angry First Aid instead.</p><p> </p><p>”Oh (y/n),” The medic had quipped after the doors slide open, “Ratchet’s not here right now. I’d love to stay and chat, but I don’t want to be around him a moment longer.” He then stormed down the hall towards what I believed to be the bar named after the bot who’d carried my luggage on board. Swerve? Or was it Curve? I can’t remember. <br/><br/></p><p>Curious as to who had sent away in such a huff, I’d walked into the room. I wish my dumbass had just turned around and finished my report that was due soon. <br/><br/></p><p>“Ah, liaison (y/n), to what do I owe the pleasure?” Megatron was drinking what I assume was fools energon. His huge grey, black and red body leaned against one of the medical berths. The way his body curved against the large metal slab made him look like a model getting ready for a shoot. <em>What’s with these aliens? </em></p><p> </p><p>”I was looking for Ratchet,” I’d turned to the door hoping to make a hasty exit, but of course I wasn’t so lucky.</p><p> </p><p>”(Y/n), wait,” He walked over to me, and I could see his blazing ruby optics flicker with an emotion I couldn’t quite pinpoint, “I can help you find him if you like?” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’d rather put my boob in a fucking panini press. <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’m quite capable of navigating the ship myself,” I knew I was being petty and rude. But, how could I not be. This mech had caused thousands of good people pain and suffering. I’d tried leaving once again but large gunmetal grey hand stopped me.</p><p> </p><p>”Please,” a small, almost guilty looking smile filled his face, “I insist.”</p><p> </p><p>Now I had learned a lot in my years of training. But, one thing they failed to teach was how the fuck do you say no to an ex-warlord who slaughtered your people. Not to mention the size of a god damn sky scraper. Cue me being carted around the ship, and receiving, albeit justified, perplexed stares. My body stayed rigged in his hand the entire time, constantly ready at any moment in case he tried something. Not that I could really do much to defend myself. At least his hands were warm. Not as much as Rodimus’s were, Megatron’s were more like a light breeze on a summer day. Rodimus’s hands however, reminded me of the heat from a campfire. Compared to the constant coldness the ship gave off with its all metal walls, it was nice. Unsettling nice. <br/><br/></p><p>Neither of us spoke the whole time. Not that I cared, I just wanted to find Ratchet as soon as possible. We’d finally found him in the laboratory with Brainstorm and Nautica. I had yet to meet the purple and yellow femme, and she was squealing at the sight of me. I thanked her internally when she had taken me from Megatron, and shooed him away. <br/><br/></p><p>“What was that all about?” Ratchet had asked in between Nautica’s questions. She was a very curious bot, but I could tell she meant well by it. In fact I enjoyed being able to talk to someone who was also a female, a nice change from the sausage fest I’d been stuck in. </p><p> </p><p>“He insisted he help me find you,” I replied, taking a seat on the soft purple and white hands. “Can’t exactly say no to an ex-warlord.”</p><p> </p><p>”You should’ve called me, or Rodimus or anyone but him,” He scolded me, instantly morphing into “dad mode”. I heard a small giggle from Brainstorm as Ratchet continued his lecture.</p><p> </p><p>”If you ever need help don’t be afraid to ask me!” Nautica chirped in between his rants. The smile she gave me could make anyone’s heart melt. I could only nod at her. <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“So, what were you guys working on?” <br/><br/></p><p><br/>So, out of my first seven days on the Lost Light there’d been maybe one or two exciting events. Not terrible I guess for my first deep space mission. But, someone on board decided that it could simply not be an easy trip. That someone made it utterly clear today they didn’t want me on board or anywhere near Cybertron. I guess things were going to get interesting, but not in a good way.</p><p> </p><p>“Ultra Magnus,” giving my fakest grin of course, I ask, “Oh, sorry do you prefer Minimus Ambus? So hard to keep up with all your names sir.” </p><p> </p><p>His bright blue eyes glare down at me from the door of my habsuite. For a moment he said nothing. Then he opened his rude ass mouth. <br/><br/></p><p><br/>“Why are you here?” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s so nice to see you again too sir, though I’m sure you’re upset it’s me and not-“</p><p> </p><p>“Listen (y/n), I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t know why you’re acting this way. I know how you are, and how you really act. This ship is already full of pranksters, rule breakers and degenerates, but you,” He somehow managed to glare harder at me, “You’re a kind of trouble this ship doesn’t need. I just want you to know I fully disagree with you being here. I will remove you the first chance I get.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“Gosh sir, I know you missed me but please stop with the praises.” My face remains unchanged, even though I can feel his words stirring up panic. <em>Panic later, focus. </em>“Look I know you’ve never liked me. I don’t blame you, considering how I was back then. But, I’m not that person anymore. I’ve matured and changed. Earth’s governments would not have sent me here if I were still that person. However, in saying that,” a wide evil smile spread across my face, “If you try to sabotage my job in anyway, or try to get me fired I will not hesitate to retaliate.” The mech’s eyes flash with anger and confusion. <em>Really after all these years he thought I would let him walk all over me? God, he never changes. </em>“I’m sure your fellow crew mates would love to hear about the extracurriculars you did while on Earth, hmm?”</p><p> </p><p>“You better watch yourself human, I don’t take kindly to threats.” <br/><br/></p><p><br/>“Neither do I, robot.” </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Under Pressure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Having a minibot barge into your room at eight in the morning, demanding you come have fun with him was honestly such a lovely way to wake up. <br/><br/></p><p>“C’mon (y/n), Cy is busy “doing important training” and I’m bored.” A scoff comes out of Tailgate’s mouth, as though it might encourage me to get up. I just roll over. “Hey! Don’t ignore me, I used the finger quotes and everything! See how bored I am?” A hard metal finger pokes into my blanket covered form, “(Y/n)? (Yyyy/nnnn)? (Y/n)!” <br/><br/></p><p>Sitting straight up like Dracula out of his coffin I stare him dead in his visor. He shrinks down at my gaze, poking his fingers together sheepishly. <em>God, I can never stay mad at him. <br/></em></p><p>“Coffee first.” Tailgate practically shoots out happiness from the cracks between his armour. Nodding vigorously he runs over to my coffee machine, another beautiful invention I’d managed to sneak on board, and pops a pod in. After he’d let himself in my room my third morning on the Lost Light, I’d taught him how. <em>I need it to be around someone so chipper this early in the morning.</em></p><p> </p><p>”What does it taste like?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Heaven Tailgate,” letting out a small groan, I get up out of bed, “Heaven made from beautiful little beans.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Really? Can I try?” He leans in sniffing the liquid as it drips into the bright blue mug. It says “Pot Head” with an image of a coffee pot printed on it. My uncle had given me it to me when I left for university. The look in his eyes said I’d need it, and by God was he right. <br/><br/></p><p>“It’s probably not the best for Cybertronians, I mean you really only consume Energon or some variation of it.” Pulling my (h/c) hair up in a quick bun, I grab an outfit for the day heading to the bathroom. “Be right back.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ow! Why’s it so hot?!” He whines out from the main room.</p><p> </p><p>Rolling my eyes, I slip on a pair of cute calf high black boots. “Kinda the point Tailgate.” Grabbing my tooth brush, I check my face in the mirror. Slight dark circles had started to form under my (e/c) eyes. <br/><br/></p><p>When I leave the bathroom, I’m dressed in a pair of black and grey plaid dress pants, and a black turtle neck. Holding the pants up is a simple black leather belt with a golden clasp. Swiping the mug from under the machine, I take in a deep breath, already feeling more awake. <br/><br/></p><p>“Can we go now? Pleaseeeeee?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Coffee first.”</p><p><br/>Once I’d finished my coffee, Tailgate wasted no time scooping me up onto his shoulder. The larger door of my habsuite slides open, and he strolls out choosing to venture left down the long pale metal hallway. Doors litter the hallway, the only window being at the very end. The black abyss outside has small blinking dots sprinkled in it, stars lighting up the empty space. A couple small asteroids pass by as we venture towards it. <em>God, space can be so calming and beautiful. </em></p><p><br/>CRASH!</p><p> </p><p><em>And just like that, ruined. </em>The crash had come from the habsuite we were in front of, and Tailgate’s stride falters for a moment. From my perch on his shoulder I can’t see his emotions, but from the way his body tenses, I can tell it’s not a positive one. </p><p> </p><p>“Who lives in there? I’ve never seen them even leave their room.” <br/><br/></p><p>The minibot takes a few quick paces away from the door before answering, “That’s Chromedome’s room.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Chromedome? How come they’re always in there?” The baby blue and white body beneath me stiffens up once more, and he quickens his stride again.</p><p> </p><p>”He lost his conjunx endura, it really messed him up.” Silence fills the hallway for a moment as we pass another bot. He was a bright yellow and ocean blue in colour and much taller than Tailgate. As he is passing, he offers a small wave before continuing back the way we had came. <em>Nightbeat? Yeah, definitely Nightbeat. <br/><br/></em></p><p>“Conjunx endura?” <br/><br/><br/>“Oh sorry, umm I think you would call it a significant other?” <br/><br/></p><p>Nodding my head, I thought for a moment. <em>I wouldn’t leave my room either. </em>“So,” I say breaking the awkward air that had formed, “Kinda like you and Cyclonus?”</p><p><br/>“WHAT?! Ah-well-I mean,” the poor bot was short circuiting and I quickly grab the side of his helm to hold on.</p><p> </p><p>”Woah Tailgate! I was just teasing, unless..?”</p><p> </p><p>”I-I,” he gulps, “I don’t think he likes me that way. A-at least not as much as I do.”</p><p><br/>“Awww, someone has a crush~.”</p><p> </p><p>”Shutup (y/n)!” <br/><br/></p><p>The short mech had turned his helm to stop my teasing when, suddenly we hit the ground. Luckily I didn’t get thrown from his shoulder, but the world around me was spinning. <em>What the hell?</em></p><p> </p><p>”Oh slag, my bad,” a voice speaks from above. <em>Wait a minute I’ve heard this voice somewhere before. </em>“Wait, you got the squishy with you Tailgate?” <em>Oh no it’s-</em></p><p> </p><p>“Whirl! She has a name you know!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Miss Squishy?” His one large amber eye squints at me, looking me up and down. <br/><br/></p><p>Dusting myself off, I hold on once more as Tailgate stands up. He points an angry white finger at the sky blue mech, “It’s (y/n)!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Squishy?”</p><p> </p><p>”(y/n)!”</p><p> </p><p>”Squash?”</p><p> </p><p>“(Y/N)!”</p><p> </p><p>“Organic?” <br/><br/></p><p>“IT’S-“</p><p> </p><p>”Tailgate! It’s okay I don’t mind, trust me I’ve heard worse.” Grumbling to himself he goes to turn from the larger mech, but a clawed hand stops him.</p><p> </p><p>”Wait! You wanna help me with something?” <br/>Whirl’s eye gets a sinister look in it. I share a look with the minibot. <br/><br/></p><p>“Help with what?”</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p><em>Second note to self: never ask Whirl what he needs help with. Scratch that, never help Whirl. Period. </em>Currently, the three of us were squished into a booth in the back corner of Swerve’s bar. I still don’t know the reason he asked us here, he simply sat there giggling to himself like psycho. To be fair, I’m pretty sure he is a psycho. The bar was practically empty as it was still only morning. The only others in sight were a couple bots sitting up at the bar, chatting with each other. <br/><br/></p><p>“So, are you going to tell us why we’re here or...?” I ask, moving to sit on the hard grey table. Small ring shaped stains littered it, as though engraved into metal by whoever was sitting here last. <br/><br/><br/>“Now Squash where’s the fun in that?” One of Whirl’s large claw like hands reach down, patting my head like you would a dog. <em>I did not have enough coffee for this shit.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Whirl she has a name!” Tailgate huffs from the other side of the table, slapping his claw from my head. “This is boring, can you just tell us what we are doing here?” <br/><br/></p><p>“You’ll see my little friends just wait,” He lets out an evil giggle under his breath, and waves down the minibot behind the bar. “Hey Swerve! Buddy come here!” <br/><br/></p><p>The short red and white mech looks away from the other two bots at the bar, and frowns at the sight of the crazy ass blue bot. However as his blue visor tracks over to Tailgate and I, his whole body seems to light up. And then he starts shaking again. <em>Whirl you sadistic fuck. </em>Quickly making his way over, he mutters to himself the whole way. <em>God, this poor guy.</em><br/><br/></p><p>“U-uh hey g-guys, w-what’s up?” He stutters out, nervously looking between the three of us. <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh you know, just hanging out.” A claw waves around half hazardously, almost whacking Swerve in the process. “Hey! Have you met my squishy friend here? She’s just been dying to meet you.”</p><p><br/>The poor bot practically short circuits at that, leaning down to be more at my height, “O-oh really-y? Well it’s n-nice to meet you t-too!”</p><p><br/>Sending a quick glare, assuring Whirl I’d have my revenge, I stick a hand out to him offering a pitiful smile, “My names (y/n), you’re Swerve right?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Yeah t-that’s me!” Placing a red digit in my hand, his face flushes blue at the contact. And then he promptly faints. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p> </p><p>”SHIT!” <br/><br/></p><p>————</p><p>“What’d I tell you? What was one of the first things I told you?” Ratchet lector’s me from my perch on the medical berth beside Swerve’s still unconscious body, “I said there are idiots on board! And what do you do? Run to the first and biggest idiots you can find?!” <em>God, it’s still too early for this. </em>Tailgate and Whirl had left soon after we entered, mostly because Ratchet went full dad mode. I wasn’t even hurt, but I guess after the sight of Whirl throwing Swerve’s body at him and Tailgate almost dropping me after bumping into Whirl, I don’t really blame Ratchet. “Are you even listening right now?” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“Of course,” I smile, before he goes back into ranting. It’d been about half an hour already and I felt like my ears were about to fall off. The conversation had rounded back to how I was now “one of the idiots” as I’d been “infected with their dumbaft syndrome”. His hands never left his hips, except to check Swerve’s vitals. <em>I swear this mech has spent his life perfecting his sass. </em></p><p> </p><p>Waving a digit in my face he continues on by saying, “I thought I’d taught you better.” <em>Rude. </em></p><p><br/>However, before Ratchet could even get the words “I’m not mad, just disappointed,” out the small mech’s visor lit up. Leaning up on the berth, he rubbed his head with his hand and let out a groan.</p><p> </p><p>”Hey Ratchet, how’d I get here?” Swerve looks around the medbay, trying to put two and two together. <br/><br/></p><p>“I do know but, I don’t care enough to explain it. You’re fine you just fainted.” The medic grumbles. His blue optics conveyed a tiredness I didn’t think was possible in Cybertronians. I’m sure if he was human he’d have dark circles layered under his eyes. <em>Is he having nightmares again?</em></p><p><br/>Placing a hand on the minibots leg, I gave him a sympathetic smile. “Hey, sorry about before. You feeling better?”  </p><p> </p><p>A blank stare was all I got in reply. For a whole minute all he did was stare at me, as though I wasn’t real. Swerve then swore in Cybertronian before fainting again. <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh, for Primus sake!” Ratchet yells, throwing his hands up in the air. Pointing an angry digit at the door, he huffs out a large gust of air, slightly blowing my hair back. “Out! Obviously your presence is too much, and I’m too old for this. Out!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Hey Ratch, I thought I heard someone yelling what’s up?” Rodimus had peeked his head into the medbay, a cheerful yet mischievous grin filling up his face. <br/><br/></p><p>Seeing this as the perfect opportunity, the older bot scoops me up, practically throwing me at the prime. Pushing us out he yells out some more profanities before shutting the door in our faces. A subtle awkwardness fills the air for a moment, as Rodimus and I just stand there. Then, he bursts out into to giggles.</p><p> </p><p>”You gotta tell me what happened now! I haven’t seen him this rilled up in awhile!” He jokes, starting to journey away from the medbay. His cheery mood was a nice change from how my day had been going so far. <em>It’s only what- eleven? -and I’ve had to deal with Whirl, caused a bot to faint, and been lectured by Ratchet.</em> <em>God, I need some more coffee. I think that’s starting to become my catchphrase. </em>While I love spending time with Tailgate, the prime really knew how to light up a room. He makes everything feel less serious. I could relax around him, something that I wasn’t really capable of doing around many others. <br/><br/></p><p>“A while as in a day?” I offer him a small smirk, and his whole mood seems to somehow brighten more at the joke.</p><p> </p><p>”Oh my Primus! Was that a joke?” He chuckles, turning down a hallway leading us deeper into the ship.</p><p> </p><p>”Haha very funny, yes I can make jokes you know.” Rolling my eyes, I take a seat on the bright yellow hands. Warmth envelopes me once again, as I do. <em>Is it weird I kinda missed this?</em></p><p> </p><p>”Okay, don’t be so sour. I’m just teasing,” Rodimus comes to a stop in front of a large off white door. I didn’t even realize how far we had waked until now. Clicking a button by the door, it swooshes open. “I’ve just never seen you relax like that. You’re always so professional, you remind me of Mags.” <br/><br/></p><p>I cringe at that comparison. <em>I think Ultra Magnus would throw a fit if he had heard that. </em>Searching the room around me, it only takes me a couple seconds to realize he’s brought me to his habsuite. The walls were a rusty orange colour, and a large berth sat on the right side of the room by a huge circular window. On the walls were some shelves filled with a couple keepsakes. <em>Is that a fishing rod? </em>Looking to the left of the room, there was a white desk with datapads scattered across the top. In the back left corner was another large door, which I assume led to his shower. <br/><br/></p><p>“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to come off as prude or anything.” I rub the back of neck. <em>Fuck, I was so busy trying to shove it to Magnus and be professional. I’m just being an ass to everyone else. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“Woah! Hey, I didn’t mean it like that!” Sitting down at his desk, he lets me off his hand. After I turn to face him, he continues, “If anything I’m kinda jealous.”</p><p> </p><p>”You are... Jealous?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I can act so immaturely and stupid sometimes. How old are you? Like twenty something? I’ve been around for millions of years longer than you, and I’m still nowhere near as professional as you.” Rodimus lets out a long sigh, laying his head on the table beside me he gives me a long sad look. “I’ve fragged up so much. Ever since I became a prime all I’ve done is constantly make mistakes. I’ve never been the leader they needed, I’ll never be Optimus. Slag, you’d make a better prime than me.” He lets a harsh laugh out before closing his optics.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I mean I don’t know about that.” I offer weakly, but he ignores the comment.</p><p> </p><p>“Pits (y/n), I’m not even good at being a friend.” </p><p><br/>He opens his optics again, and gives me a long solemn look. Face flushing blue, he sits back up looking away ashamed. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said all that.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Rodimus,” I say, taking a step closer to him, “The only reason I’m this way is because in my training this was beaten into me. As a representative of the Earth, they wanted me to be as professional as possible. Trust me, that’s not who I am, at least not all the time.” He turns back to me, the blue flush still prominent on his face. “I haven’t known you that long, but I can’t imagine the pressure put on you. Not only by your people once you became a prime, but by yourself as well. From what I understand, they expect perfection from you simply because this matrix chose you. But, it didn’t chose you because you were perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>A pout graces Rodimus’s whole body at that, as he raises an eyebrow at me, “Jeez, I get it. I’m not perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not saying you aren’t perfect. You are in your way, chill. I just mean you aren’t Optimus Prime. You aren’t Ultra Magnus, or Ratchet or anyone. You’re you! Rodimus Prime, someone who brightens up any room they walk into. You don’t need to be the perfect leader because in my eyes you’re the best kind of leader. Not because your professional or strict or serious. No, because you inspire others in a way I’ve never seen. Because, you make mistakes but that’s okay! You show people that everyone can make mistakes, even those who society deems must be perfect.” <br/><br/></p><p>The prime’s mouth opens to be slightly ajar as he stares at me. <em>Shit</em>,<em> he’s not saying anything. I went to far. Fuck, that was weird to say wasn’t it? He barely knows me and I barely know him. The guy probably doesn’t care what I have to say. Ugh, just please say somethi-</em></p><p><br/>A bright orange arm wraps around me pulling me into his warm shoulder. The other arm joins his left one, hugging me into him as Rodimus’s chin lays across my back. I’m surrounded by him on all sides, and I stiffen up at the contact. <em>What?</em> </p><p><br/>“Thank you.” He whispers, “I think I really needed that. Thank you.” Bringing my right arm up, I pat the back of his head. “Ever since Drift left, I haven’t really had anyone to open to. Thank you, I’m sorry I dumped all this on you.” Pulling back, but still keeping one arm around me, he places a hand over his face in embarrassment. “Primus, I’m whining like a sparkling.” A small smile peaks out from behind his hand, and I can’t help but smile back. Placing a hand over the arm around me I take in a deep breath. <em>God, I hope I don’t regret saying this.</em></p><p> </p><p>”If you ever need someone, I’m here. I know I’m no Drift but, I’ll listen.” </p><p> </p><p>His smile gets bigger, and he leans back down again. Thinking he’s coming in for another hug, I smile back at him. Then I feel the warmth of a pair of lips against my forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take you up on that offer (y/n).” <br/><br/></p><p>A furious blush fills up my whole face, setting it practically on fire. Throwing my hands up, I push his face away. “Hey! What t-the hell Rodimus!?”</p><p><br/>“Sorry! Sorry!” He laughs, putting his arms up to protect himself from my arms, “It was just so serious. I had to break the tension.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Well don’t do it again!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Okay, okay! You have my word!” A devilish grin grows on his face, “Though, Drift never minded...”</p><p> </p><p>“I DON’T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THAT!”</p><p> </p><p>”BUT YOU SAID-“</p><p> </p><p>“SHUSH!”</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a booming laugh, and I can’t help but laugh too. <em>Maybe this won’t be so bad, </em>I think as I grin up at him. <em>Yeah, </em>my smile grows even wider, <em>I </em><em>think it’s going to be okay.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Wish You Were Here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a warning, there is some gore mentioned in this chapter and elements of PTSD. So, please take precaution before reading. Thank you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>My rapid breathing was all I could hear. It surrounds me on all sides filling up the pitch black room. It was so dark, I couldn’t see the walls, or whatever was restraining me. Running a finger along the material holding my wrists down, I shudder once I realize what it is. Leather. Panic starts to seep into my veins, my chest starts to tighten, as though trying to trap my lungs. My hands begin to shake, and all my senses start to feel overloaded. I try to move my legs only to find them also strapped down. The shaking of my hands moves to the rest of my body, and my breathing gets impossibly loud. <br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well good evening dear, did you miss me while I was away?” A mans voice calls out from the darkness. All sound around me cuts out, being replaced with the loud stomping of someone approaching me. A soft rattle, almost similar to the sound of a shopping cart accompanies the footsteps. This does nothing to calm my shaking body, and my panic somehow heightens even more. “I’ve got quite the treat for you today! But, you only get it if you promise to be a good girl.” A dark chuckle comes from the man, and he finally appears from the black abyss. In his hand is a tall stand holding an IV bag. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“F-fuck you,” my voice comes out scratchy and hoarse. I just notice how dry my throat is, and it actually pains me to speak. The man let’s out a long sigh, continuing towards me. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Now,” he places a large gloved hand on my arm, and I flinch under it, “That’s just rude. You’re lucky I’m feeling nice today though, so I’ll still give you a treat!” Grabbing my chin, he forces my face to his, and I stare into his pale icy blue eyes. The amount of insanity and torment just in those eyes shook me to my very core. “Be a proper lady and sit still okay?” <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Letting go of my face, he grabs the needle from the IV shoving it into my arm without warning. A burning pain instantly fills my body as the liquid pours into my veins. I start to convulse, screaming out and tears pouring down my face. <br/><br/><br/>“Please, please stop.” I beg through my screams. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hmm,” the man ignores my pleas, reaching into his jacket pocket. “I think you’re ready for surgery, don’t you?” From his pocket, I see him pull out a scalpel. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No! NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!!” <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sit still!” He shouts, and presses the small blade into the middle of my chest. My sobs only get louder and the tears on my face turn into waterfalls. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man starts to drag the scalpel down cutting a clean line as blood boils up. His laughter fills my ears, and my vision goes black.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p>“AHHHHH!” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>I shoot up in bed, quickly checking my surroundings. Placing my face in my hands, I try to calm my rapid breathing and stop the hot tears pouring from my eyes. <em>You’re okay, </em>I tell myself, <em>you’re on the Lost Light. It’s safe here. You’re safe here. </em>Once I get my breathing to calm down a bit, I slide out of bed. I don’t even bother even getting changed and just leave the room. <em>God, what time is it? </em>As I make my way down the hallway, I notice there’s not a single soul in sight. <em>Everyone must be recharging. </em>Quickening my pace, I make a quick right turn, heading down another hallway full of habsuites. <em>I need to get there soon, I don’t want to bump into any stragglers. </em>Finally reaching the door I was looking for, I bang my fist against it. <br/><br/></p><p>“C’mon please answer,” I whisper under my breath. I continue to slam my hand on the door, knocking as loudly as I could without waking up anyone else. <br/><br/></p><p>After a couple seconds, the door slides open. “(Y/n)?” Ratchet looks exhausted, I’d obviously woke him up from probably his first recharge in awhile. “Woah, hey what’s wrong?” He asks, taking in my shaking body and tear stained face. Picking me up delicately, he brings me to his chassis and into his habsuite. The warmth his spark provides soothes my nerves a bit, and my shaking starts to calm down. I rest my head against Ratchet’s chassis, hoping the thrum of his spark beat will relax me even more.</p><p> </p><p>”Nightmare,” is all I say. He nods knowingly, laying us down on his large berth. A single digit comes up to rub my back as we lay there in silence. Slowly, but surely the panic leaves me, and exhaustion takes over. We laid there, just taking in each other’s presence. <br/><br/></p><p>“Thank you,” I finally mumble out after about twenty minutes. Placing an appreciative hand on the one rubbing my back, I look up giving him a weak smile. <br/><br/></p><p>“Anytime (y/n), do you want to talk about it?” I shake my head “no” in response. He nods, offlining his optics. “Back to sleep then?”</p><p><br/>————</p><p>A month. One fucking month. That’s how long I’d made it on this ship before I started getting my nightmares again. Part of me was angry with myself, I had hoped to leave all that behind on Earth. The other part of me was just grateful for Ratchet. The eons old medic had become like a father to me over our many years of friendship. Sometimes I think it’s because he reminds me of my mom so much. He’s taught me so much, and helped me through so much pain. I count my lucky stars everyday for just how fortunate I am to have him in my life. I knew he saw me like a daughter as well. Ratchet had let it slip out a couple times in conversation. One time after I’d gotten hurt in training and he’d scolded me, he’d said:<br/><br/></p><p>“Can’t you just listen to your sire for once and stay out of harms way?” <br/><br/></p><p>He was pretty embarrassed after the word had slipped out. It wasn’t the only time it happened, when I graduated training he’d let it slip out too.</p><p> </p><p>”I’m so proud of you kiddo.” <br/><br/><br/>Safe to say we’d basically adopted each other. After the first time my nightmares happened on the ship though, I could tell I was going to start stressing him out once more. He doesn’t deserve that, he already worries so much about me. The poor mech worries too much about everything. So, with a brave smile, I left that morning saying I would talk to Rung about it. <em>The things you do to please your parents.</em></p><p><br/>“Ah, (y/n)!” The psychiatrist greets me, and offers me his palm. “It’s wonderful to see you again.” </p><p><br/>“It’s great to see you too Rung,” I say, accepting the lift to the large metal berth. He takes a seat beside me, and pulls out a datapad. I’m reminded of my last time here, the only changes being a new model had been added to his collection. I didn’t recognize it and honestly didn’t care enough to ask. <br/><br/></p><p>“So, how’ve you been since I last saw you?” He crosses one leg over the other, peering down at me through his glasses. I copy his position, sitting on the edge of the berth.</p><p> </p><p>”Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>”Well that’s good, and how’re you getting along with the crew?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Good, every bot seems nice enough. In fact I think they find my presence on board to be entertaining.” A pause fills the conversation for a moment, and he motions for me to continue, “I’ve grown quite close with Tailgate and Nautica. I suppose you could say Rodimus and I have as well,” I let out a soft scoff, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, “Though I cannot say Ultra Magnus is enthusiastic about me being here.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh?” Rung shifts back in his seat, a soft frown filling his pale face, “Why do you say that?”</p><p> </p><p>”Well to be honest with you, I’m pretty sure he hates me.” I shrug, thinking back over my first month here. I had multiple run ins with him, each one filled with glares and insults. The most annoyingly formal insults, but still. <br/><br/></p><p>“I don’t think he hates you (y/n),” I just reply to him with a raised eyebrow, <em>yes because nothing says I don’t hate you like threatening someone the size of one of your digits.</em> “Alright, let’s say he does. Why do you think he harbours these feelings of hate towards you?”</p><p> </p><p>”We have a rocky past, I don’t really want to talk about it.” I sneer, looking away from the skinny bot in front of me to the window. “Plus, I think he’d hate me more if I did.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I see, so it’s something both of you’d prefer to keep in the past?” Rung’s hands link together in his lap as he leans in closer. <br/><br/></p><p>“Yes,” that’s the only answer I give him. <em>God, please change the subject. Can we talk about anything else? Anything? <br/><br/></em></p><p>“Alright, I can tell this is something you want move on from. That’s okay, I’m sure one day you two will be ready to discuss it. How about you tell me about your parents instead?” <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Anything but that. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>“Um, not much to say really. Like I said last time, I never really knew my biological father. He left my mom shortly after I was born. So, my mom raised me all by herself for years in a small town in Canada. When I was sixteen she died, and I went to live with my Uncle in the states.” I recite, it was basically exactly what I had told him last time. But, he still gave me a thoughtful nod.</p><p> </p><p>”What was your life like in Canada?” <br/><br/></p><p>A soft smile graces my lips, I start thinking about my years there. “It was some of the best years of my life. I lived in the same town for all of my sixteen years there, so almost all the kids I went to school with had been with me since kindergarten. Uh, that’s the first year of schooling,” I quickly explain at his questioning look, “My mom worked as a teacher at the high school, she taught physics, chemistry and biology. She was so smart, and an amazing teacher. Everyone loved her.”</p><p> </p><p>”I see, and how was your relationship with her? Were you two close?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Close?” I chuckle, “We were more like roommates than mother and daughter. We were kinda like the Gilmore Girls. It’s a TV show if you’re wondering. She was always there for me, and I was always there for her. At least I tried to be.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh?” Rung’s pen had been scribbling the whole session as though I’d just told him the hottest gossip.</p><p> </p><p>”Yeah, I had a bit of a temper when I was young. Mom said I got it from my father,” I look down at my hands, guilt filling me for a moment. “Sometimes I’d lash out at her. It wasn’t fair to her, and I’d often find my myself regretting my actions afterwards.”</p><p><br/>Thinking back to our time together, I remembered one fight we had got in. I was fifteen, and I wanted to go to this bush party so bad. Of course, she wouldn’t let me go. <em>“I don’t understand why you’re being such a bitch about it! It’s just a fucking party, I’m not going to fucking die!” </em>I’d screamed at her. I flinch at the angry tone of the words as they bounce around in my head. It seemed so trivial now looking back on it. <br/><br/></p><p>“Yes, I’ve often heard that the youth of your species acts out. Especially in your teenage years. What’s it called...” he taps a thoughtful finger against his chin, “Ah yes! Puberty!”</p><p> </p><p>I let out a genuine laugh at that, and Rung returns it with a smile. <em>Maybe he’s not so bad. He’s kind of cute in a way. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“Yes, I guess you could blame part of it on that.” <br/><br/></p><p>“And this anger, is it still in your life?” <br/><br/></p><p>“No,” I pause, “I’ve got it mostly under control now. I’ve found it only comes out in extreme situations.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I see, will you tell me about the last time you lost control?” <br/><br/></p><p>My ears begin to ring, screams, yelling and a loud voice barking orders fill up the space around me. I shiver, “Um no, I’d rather not sorry.” <br/><br/></p><p>“No worries, if you’re not comfortable sharing anything we can always come back to it once you are.” Rung shares a soft smile with me, and takes his glasses off. “Will you tell me about your father at all? Or how his absence has effected you?” <br/><br/></p><p>“No, he’s not worth my breath,” I snap, then apologize for doing so. “Sorry, it’s just I’ve never seen him as my father beyond the fact he impregnated my mom. To me, my uncle and Ratchet have been better dads to me than he was.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I did not realize you and Ratchet were so close,” he hums, writing something down quickly on his data pad.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, ever since the day we met I guess we just kinda clicked.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I see, can you tell me-“</p><p> </p><p>KNOCK! KNOCK!</p><p> </p><p>The loud banging from the door startles us both, and Rung lets out a small yelp at the noise. Murmuring under his breath, he grabs his glasses and offers me his hand to step onto.</p><p> </p><p>”My apologies (y/n), I completely lost track of time. I have another appointment I must attend to, but I will be looking forward to our next meeting!” The doors slide open, revealing a blue bot with yellow, red and white accents. His optics were a bright yellow, and held my gaze. The bot offers me a smile and a wink. <em>Why is everyone on this ship so hot?</em></p><p> </p><p>”Hey Rung, sorry am I early?” The mech asks. I rake my brain for his name, <em>Tracks? Blades? No, something with an S... Skids?</em></p><p> </p><p>“Not at all Skids,” <em>I was right, I’d seem him with Nautica a couple times, </em>“We simply lost track of time! Oh! How rude of me, this is one of Earth’s liaisons, (y/n).” <br/><br/></p><p>“Nice to meet yah,” he offers me a digit to shake, “Like Rung said, I’m Skids.” <br/><br/></p><p>“It’s lovely to meet you as well,” I simply say, giving him a small smile.</p><p> </p><p>”Nautica wasn’t kidding, you are cute!” Skids grinned showing off his derma. My whole face grew hot at the compliment. <em>Fuck me.</em></p><p> </p><p>”O-oh, thank you!” I stammer out. He ruffles my hair, and Rung sets me down. “U-uh bye!” I speed walk away, mentally screaming at myself for acting like a preteen. <em>God, pick like one bot not the whole crew girl! You got to stop, you horn dog! </em>Rounding the corner at the end of the hall, I slow my pace. <em>Cute? Maybe I should pay my favourite purple femme a visit. <br/></em></p><p>————</p><p>“Nautica?” I call out, knocking my fist against the tall doors of the lab she spent most her time in. I would’ve just let myself in, but almost all the keypads were at least six feet above me. So, a lot of my time on the Lost Light was spent waiting outside doors. As they slide open, I’m met with the wide grin of the femme.</p><p> </p><p>”Hey (y/n)!” Scooping me up, she lets me climb onto her shoulder. “To what do I owe the honour of Earth’s liaison coming to visit me?” She teases, heading over to Brainstorm who was writing something on what looked to be a giant white board.</p><p> </p><p>”Well a little birdy told me you were going around calling me cute. I had to investigate of course,” A laugh floats from her, and I can’t help but smile with her. “I mean this bird was more like ten times my height blue and had bright yellow optics. And oh my, the way he said your name...”</p><p> </p><p>”Skids?” Nautica asks, raising an eyebrow at me.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes he seems quite fond of you. I guess I’ve got competition.”</p><p> </p><p>At that she barks out a laugh, giving me a light shove with her white digits. Nautica and I often play flirted with each other. It had all started when she complimented my outfit one day. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>“Oh this?” I had said, “All for you hun.” <br/></em>
</p><p><br/>Ever since then, it had become an ongoing joke between us. <br/><br/></p><p>“Competition? Oh, I’ve got optics for no one but you sweetie.” She purrs out, turning her helm to give me a quick wink. <br/><br/></p><p>“If you two love birds are done, Nautica and I were in the middle of something,” Brainstorm grumbles, sketching a small circle onto the board. <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.” <br/><br/></p><p>“No worries cutie, you can stick around and listen if you want?” The femme offers, taking her place beside Brainstorm. She erases a couple numbers he had wrote down replacing them with new ones. He lets out a small “Aha!” and throws himself back into his work.</p><p> </p><p>”Sure, what’re you two working on?” <br/><br/>————</p><p>The last two hours had been spent listening to the two scientists rave over quantum mechanics. Or at least I think that’s what they were discussing. I like to think I’m smart, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so confused. It was nice to see Nautica getting excited over something she was so passionate about. <em>She reminds me of my friend back on Earth. </em>However, my brain was starting to melt with the overload of information.</p><p> </p><p>“Now if we just carry the two...” The purple bot murmurs.</p><p> </p><p>”Of course, but don’t forgot to-“ Brainstorm starts, pointing to the equation she is currently working on.</p><p> </p><p>”Already on it.”  </p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>God, please save me. I think my brains going to explode. <br/></em>
</p><p><br/>“You forgot to-“ </p><p> </p><p>RING! RING! RING!</p><p> </p><p>The loud ringtone of my data pad goes off, and I scramble to answer it.</p><p> </p><p>”Hello?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Hey (y/n)! You busy?” Rodimus’s cheerful voice called out. <br/><br/></p><p>“I’m just with Nautica and Brainstorm, do you need me?” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Save me please, I beg you.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I need someone to talk to who isn’t going to lecture me.” He groans out, causing Nautica to let a soft giggle slip out.</p><p> </p><p>”Ultra Magnus being himself again?” I ask, giving the femmes helm a small push. <br/><br/></p><p>“Ugh, don’t even get me started. I’ll be there soon.” With that the call fizz’s out. Putting it back in my jeans pocket, I step out onto the palm now in front of me. Nautica brings me up to her optic level, and gives me a small smile. <br/><br/></p><p>“I didn’t know you and our Captain were so close.” She smirks, walking over to the large doors. <br/><br/></p><p>“Someone’s got to listen to his rants, lord knows no one else will,” I joke, “Don’t you worry though, you’re still my number one babe.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I better be.” <br/><br/></p><p>The doors slide open revealing a defeated looking prime. He practically makes the motion like a toddler wanting to be picked up, and Nautica hands me over. I yell out a goodbye to Brainstorm and he offers a nod in return. <br/><br/></p><p>“See ya later sweetspark.” Nautica flirts, giving me a wave. <br/><br/></p><p>“You bet doll.” <br/><br/></p><p>Rodimus makes his way down the hall of the ship, never slowing in pace. <em>Man, something must’ve really pissed him off today. He seems upset. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“Doll?” The mech finally breaks the silence, sending me a confused look, “Are you and Nautica... well you know?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh god no,” I shake my head, “It’s just a joke between us.” </p><p><br/>He lets out an acknowledging hmm, and wastes no time when we reach his room. Quickly stepping inside, I found myself where I was many days since that fateful morning a couple weeks ago. On Rodimus’s desk listening to him rant.</p><p> </p><p>”-So then Megatron just goes and talks over me like I hadn’t just been saying something! And Mags doesn’t even say anything?! I mean c’mon I thought he was on my side!” Letting out a loud groan, he slumps back in his chair throwing his orange arms up in the air. “The two just acted as though I wasn’t even there, I’m bright orange and yellow! How can you not see me?! Then Mags lectures me for wanting to leave early! Give me a break!” With one more huff, he stares into the ceiling letting a few swears slip out.</p><p> </p><p>”Okay, okay,” I beckon him with my hands to come closer, and he complies laying his helm down on the table. I place a hand on the back of it, rubbing slow circles in hopes it would calm him down. “Look you’re obviously stressing yourself out more talking about it. Why don’t we go do something relaxing to take your mind off things? What do you usually do to relax?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Go for drives,” Rodimus mumbles, letting his optics offline. I could still feel the tension in his body under my palm, even though he looked so calm already. <em>Does he always try to hide this?</em></p><p> </p><p>”Okay well we can’t really do that on the ship, is there anything else you’d like to do?”</p><p> </p><p>”Well, usually Drift would help me out. He’d give me sword lessons, or just sit there with me till I calmed down.” He lets his blue optics online, peering at me. <em>His optics remind me of neutron star. Jesus, they’re beautiful. </em>“What do you usually do?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh well,” I rub the back of my neck, “I like to go for drives too. But, I also enjoy listening to music while just laying down.” He seems to like that suggestion, picking me up softly, and carrying me over to a shelf. Rodimus pulls down what looks to be the Cybtronian version of a boombox, and turns it on. Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd fills the room, but the prime quickly skips it. <br/><br/></p><p>“Too sad,” he comments, skipping a couple more songs before landing on one he likes. Life’s Been Good by Joe Walsh plays over the speakers, and the mech lets out a content nod at the first few notes of the song. Walking over to his berth, he lays down placing me on his chassis. “Will you stay? I don’t really want to be alone right now.” Rodimus admits, looking down at my small form.</p><p> </p><p>Taking a seat on the yellow metal, I pat it a couple times with my hand, “Of course Rodimus, I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>We just sit there for what feels like was an hour, but was probably only a couple minutes. Being so close to his spark chamber, I can hear his spark, and I focus on it letting the noise relax me. It’s rhythm was softer than the music, and I begin to block out the song to focus on it. <em>He’s so warm, I could fall asleep just sitting here. </em>I start to nod off, closing my eyes. <em>I think he’s comfier than my bed, I could get used to this. </em></p><p> </p><p>“(y/n)?” Rodimus’s voice comes out softly, just above a whisper. I open my eyes, looking up at him. His face looks guilty, as though he’s done something wrong. “We always talk about my problems. But, you know I’m here if you need someone too right?” <br/><br/></p><p>I nod, giving him a smile. <br/><br/></p><p>“Do you want to talk about anything?” An awkwardness fills the air. The smile leaves my face and I turn to look out his window.</p><p> <br/>“No,” I say, my voice coming out barely above a whisper.<br/><br/></p><p>“I saw you last night. I was going to help you, but then you went to Ratchets door. I figured,” he pauses, before looking out the window with me, “It wasn’t any of my business. I know, I shouldn’t have been so nosy. But, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you looked so... so scared.” <em>Fuck. </em>I face him, running a hand down my face. <em>Why couldn’t it have been some random bot?</em></p><p> </p><p>”Why were you up?” I ask, trying to change the focus back to him. <br/><br/></p><p>“Couldn’t recharge,” Rodimus says plainly, “I thought going for a walk might help.” His optics stare down at me expectantly. <em>Fuck you, fuck you and your beautiful optics. Fuck you for looking so worried about me.</em><br/><br/></p><p>“I had a nightmare, Ratchet helps me get through them,” I reply truthfully. He waits for me to continue, but I don’t say anything more. Placing a hand over my body, the prime pushes me to lay down against his chassis.<br/><br/></p><p>“Rodimus!” A slight blush fills my face. I’ve never cuddled with a mech like this except Ratchet, but that was different. I don’t know why, but this just felt different. <em>It’s cause your friends, </em>I assure myself, <em>that’s right, close friends. </em>Every muscle in my body relaxes from the heat emanating out of the soft yellow metal. </p><p> </p><p>”Okay.” Is all he says, offlining his optics once more. His free arm lays behind his helm, a digit on the other one rubs up and down my back. I can feel my eyes growing heavy. “Thank you,” Rodimus purrs out, “I know how real dreams can be.” The music from the speaker fills the air, the light buzzing of his spark louder now that my head is pressed to his chassis. <br/><br/></p><p>“Anything for you my Captain,” I whisper out softly before drifting off to sleep. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Major Tom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Anything in this chapter that refers to the comics or quotes the comics belongs to IDW publishing and I don’t own any of it. Also, for the most part I won’t be quoting what characters say in the comics exactly. This is for multiple reasons. Since this book is like an alternative universe, you could chalk the change in dialogue up to that. I also recommend to everyone, if you have not read the comics to please do so. They’re absolutely amazing. </p><p>All bold wording represents either cybertronian or chirolingual (the hand talking ;) )</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“Agent (l/n), I’ve been reviewing your reports from the last six months. It’s hard to believe you’ve been in space for half a year now. It’s also hard to believe that those bots haven’t gone on some death defying adventure yet,” Agent Fowler grumbles over the data pad. It is the first time since I’d boarded the Lost Light that we’ve met over a call like this. Before, the only time I contacted him was to hand in my reports. </p><p> </p><p>“Do they really get up to that many hijinks?” I ask with a giggle. The man simply deadpans. Years of “I’ve seen some shit” were probably to blame for the wrinkles and dark circles on his face. “Oh c’mon Sir, they can’t be that bad.”<br/><br/></p><p>”They could find a Decepticon in my sister’s wigs,” A long drawn out sigh comes from his end of the call. I just shake my head, a soft smile gracing my features. It’s nice talking to another human. I mean don’t get me wrong, the bots on board made for wonderful company. Well most, at least. It just felt good taking to someone who wasn’t an alien for once. “It’s nice to see you smiling (l/n), it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you so relaxed.” A light blush dusts my cheeks. <em>Who knew he could be such a softie? </em>“But, you better not be relaxing too much. You are still an agent of Earth. That means the training never ends, you hear me? Uncle Sam’s watching our every movement, especially yours as a liaison.” <em>Anddddd back to the hardass we all know and love. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“Of course Sir, I wouldn’t even fathom quitting my training,” The smile doesn’t leave my face though. I can’t help it, he’s right. I haven’t felt this relaxed in forever. <br/><br/></p><p>“Another thing, the big guy, you know Mr. President himself-f-f-“ the feed starts to glitch, Agent Fowler’s face warping side to side. “(L-l/n-n-n)?” The call finally cuts out, the data pad displays a “Lost Signal”, before promptly shutting itself down. <em>What the hell? </em></p><p> </p><p>A ringtone fills the new eerie silence, and I quickly locate the sound to be coming from my smaller personal datapad on my bed. Ratchet’s profile shows up on the screen, and I answer trying to ignore the feeling building up in my stomach.</p><p><br/>“Ratchet? What’s going on? My call-“ </p><p> </p><p>“(Y/n)!” His voice comes out, the panic dripping from it, “Put your emergency suit on immediately!” The blood drains from my entire body. I don’t even bother replying, rushing over to my dresser. My hands grab the space suit’s soft white coloured material. I waste no time to slip it on, grabbing the slim helmet off the top of the dresser. Finally dressed, I head for the door. The space suit was a lot tighter than any normal ones as to allow for more mobility. However, that didn’t stop it from having some padding, especially where I had joints or over my internal organs. It was mostly white with slight orange and purple accents. These accents could be seen across my rib cage, on my elbows, hips, shoulders, knees and ankles. Circles were formed where the colours cover my joints, and simple curved lines splay across my ribs. The helmet matched the suit, except it was completely white with a tinted visor, and a normal one attached to it. Two long white fins that were tipped in an orange colour were found on each side. These weren’t just for aesthetic purposes, though they made me look badass. <em>I do look pretty good in the suit. </em>These fins were the comms.<br/><br/></p><p>“Doc, what’s happening?” I ask, my voice now reaching him through the comms in the helmet.</p><p> </p><p>”We’re not sure, but parts of the ship have started disappearing.” </p><p><br/>“Are you doing drugs?” I deadpan, rounding a corner, a couple bots make way at the sight of me. <br/><br/></p><p>“This is not the time for jokes (y/n),” he sighs, “I wish I was joking, it’d make this so much easier to explain.” My pace quickens, the supports in the soles of the suit helping me go faster than I normally could. <br/><br/></p><p>“Is anyone hurt?” I bite my lip, taking a sharp left down a hallway. My feet were closing me in on the medbay fast. </p><p> </p><p>A long sigh leaves his mouth, “Other than Rodimus’s ego I don’t think so.” <em>That’s good at least I guess. </em>“We found a coffin, it has his body in it.” </p><p><br/>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I don’t know how either, but it’s a coffin, and there’s a dead version of him in there.”</p><p> </p><p>Taking one more right turn, I finally reach the medbay. The door was wide open, and the room was full of mechs. But, even there large bodies couldn’t cover the whole back wall missing. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Agent Fowler was fucking right, that crazy old fart. </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Aw (y/n) your little suit is so cute!” Nautica chimes, giving me a small wave.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>These idiots are prone to dumbassery. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p>Floating in zero gravity has got to be one of the weirdest feelings. Especially when in space. You feel weightless, and the black abyss of the universe surrounds you on all sides like a never ending ocean of stars, galaxies and planets. Under normal circumstances this would be a breathtaking experience for one to behold, nevertheless partake in. Sadly, I was not lucky enough to be in one of these “normal situations”. The escape pod I had boarded after parts of the ship began disappearing was now gone. Emptiness is all that remains in its place. Along with its crew. One by one, I’d watched Cybertronians vanish into thin air. I expected myself to be next but here I was. The last one left. Well, except for the Rod Pod which I just spotted coming towards me. <em>I should try reaching them through my comms, maybe someone is still there. <br/></em></p><p> </p><p>Placing a finger next to the left audial fin, I pray it reaches someone on board, “Hello? Anyone? It’s (y/n).”</p><p> </p><p>Silence is all that hits my ears as I watch the Rod Pod grow closer. Panic starts to seep into my veins. <em>There’s not much air in this suit, maybe enough for one day. Maybe. If it’s just me... I’m going to die out here. Alone. </em>The ship is even closer now, <em>they must be able to see me. <br/><br/></em></p><p>“Hello?” I call out again, “Can anyone hear me? It’s (y/n).” <br/><br/></p><p>Silence. <br/><br/></p><p>“Ratchet? Nautica? Anyone? Please?” I feel my breathing heighten. <em>Keep it under control, you need to conserve your air. <br/><br/></em></p><p>“Liaison (Y/n)?” A voice finally breaks through the silence, granted not one I’d hoped to hear. <br/><br/></p><p>“Megatron!” Relief washes over me as the Rod Pod comes within feet of me. I can see inside now, only making out the forms of a few bots. “What’s happening? Is Ratchet okay?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Ouch, not worried about me?” Nauitica’s voice comes through the comms now, and I can’t help but let out a small laugh. <br/><br/></p><p>“We don’t yet know what’s going on,” Megatron says, “Nightbeat is trying to figure that out.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh,” The ship is now right in front of me, allowing me to place a hand against the glass to peer inside. <em>Riptide, Getaway, Megatron, Nautica, Skids, Nightbeat and... a cat? I don’t see Ratchet anywhere, or Tailgate. They must’ve disappeared too. I hope they’re okay. </em>”Well, can one of you come get me? This suits not equipped with any form of propulsion.”</p><p> </p><p>Five minutes later I stood in the pod with the rest of the group, thanks to Nautica. Taking a couple steps, my body gets used to gravity once again. As I adjust to my regained weight,  Riptide tells the story of how he got left behind on the Lost Light’s first take off. A small smile graces my features when he mentions the bots they bought the ship from “talking hand”. The proper name is chirolingual, and I’m very proud to say it is one of the forms of Cybertronian I can speak. Though I didn’t have the circuits the aliens used to speak it, I could still produce the motions and same effects. It is a lot similar to humans sign language. <br/><br/></p><p>“That’s it!” Nightbeat shouts, gathering everyone’s attention. “Skids you didn’t join the crew until after the Lost Light stopped for repairs! Getaway, they found you on Luna 1, and Nautica, you met everyone on Hydrophena right before they came back to Cybertron,” my eyes widen in realization as he continues, “That’s where the rest joined, Megatron, Riptide, Ravage, (y/n), and me. So, all the bots who’ve disappeared are part of the original crew. And,” His wide grin shows off his denta, “I’m willing to bet there’ll be no one else disappearing from now on! Mystery solved!”</p><p><br/>“Well done,” Megatron says, facing Nightbeat. <br/><br/></p><p>“Why thank you, can you say it again and mean it?”</p><p> </p><p>”You failed!” The ex-warlord roars, “You may have solved the mystery, but it was after everyone was taken. So no, you failed.” <br/><br/></p><p>Nightbeat gets up in his face, “Well yes, but I figured it out didn’t I? That’s got to count for something doesn’t it?!” He pauses for a moment, “Doesn’t it?” </p><p><br/>“Megatron?” Nautica interrupts the two, and everyone else on board let’s out a breath they’d been holding. “We’re here. Ofsted XVII, we are approaching its orbit.”</p><p> </p><p>A planet stood in front of us, taking up the entire horizon. <em>Ultra Magnus was talking about a planet before he vanished. </em>But, it wasn’t the planet that had our attention.</p><p> </p><p>”But,” Nautica gasps, “We’re not the first to arrive!” <br/><br/></p><p>Out the front window of the Rod Pod were pieces of the Lost Light. The ship had been torn apart, and strange red tendrils splay out around all the pieces. My jaw drops at the sight, dread taking a hold of me once more.</p><p> </p><p>”I’m telling you! It-it’s us! It’s the Lost Light!” The purple femme joins my look of shock, and after a quick look at my fellow crew members I can see they have they are having the same reaction, “Okay maybe it’s been ripped apart but it’s our ship!” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“The one we just saw disappear...?” Getaway asks, wide blue optics still taking in the sight before him. </p><p><br/>“This must be where the future Rodimus in the  coffin was from,” Nightbeat theorizes as we fly closer to it. “But, what’s that red stuff? Over there it almost looks like threads.”</p><p> </p><p>Nautica let’s put an acknowledging hum, “That’s quantum foam. It must have started mutating since its been exposed to open space. Best not to get to close, it might-“ </p><p> </p><p>BANG!</p><p> </p><p>The whole pod rocks to the side, and I stumble to stand up. Getaway and Riptide begin to bicker, the former stating the latter did it on purpose. Tapping a hand against Nautica’s pede, I make a motion for her to pick me up. Now higher up, I get a better view out the window. Megatron suggests we land, and the pod changes direction heading for a large hole in the haul of the ship. The Rod Pod is landed in a large room, and the crew and I waste no time making our way off to investigate. <br/><br/></p><p>“This must be Swerve’s,” I say in awe, taking in the wreckage around me. The room was barely recognizable, it’s once vibrant grey walls and booths that were filled with bots, lay empty. Tables turned over, holes in the walls, and- <em>oh my god, is that energon?</em></p><p><br/>“Are you sure?” The purple and yellow femme asks, her cute transparent blue visor had come down to cover of her face. It did nothing to hide the worry in her optics as she scans the room.</p><p><br/>“Must’ve been a good night,” Riptide jokes in a hoarse voice. <br/><br/></p><p>Dread was thick in the space around us, all optics and eyes dodging one another. We all want to know what happened here, but at the same time we also hope to never find out for ourselves. <em>Agent Fowler, I could use your expertise now, I’m sorry I ever doubted you. </em>My once relaxed stature from this morning had completely dissolved leaving behind a body racked with stress and worry. <em>These trashed rooms feel too familiar. </em></p><p><br/>The Autobots around me continue to chat about the room, but I can’t seem to focus hard enough to have any input. All I can focus on is the ringing in my ears, and the shaking in my palms. <em>Not now please, not now. </em>Taking a couple deep breaths I try to calm myself. It helps a little to slow down the shaking, but it doesn’t stop. The ringing at least quiets enough for me to realize Megatron and the cat have now joined us on the future Lost Light. </p><p><br/>“I haven’t asked everyone Megatron,” Riptide snidely states, “but I’m pretty sure we all hate your new best friend.”</p><p><br/>Skids nods, “Yeah, what’s with the team up? Ravage attacked us.” <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Ravage, what a fitting name. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>Nautica walks us over to the black feline bot, bending us down to its height, “Aww, c’mon guys maybe she was just scared. Isn’t that right?” Laying her free hand on Ravage’s head, she gives it a few slow pets, “Were you scared? Did the noise and lights scare you? You’d make a lovely pet wouldn’t you? With those big red optics and-“</p><p> </p><p>Ravage swipes a black claw at the femmes arm, making her let out a “Hey!” In protest. <br/><br/></p><p>“I don’t think Ravage is anyone’s pet Nautica,” I chuckle and she shoots me a pouty glare. The silliness of the whole scene makes me forget about our terrific surroundings for a moment. <em>But, just for a moment. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“I have to agree with you there liaison (y/n),” the large grey mech to our left sends me a soft smile. <em>Ugh, don’t make yourself likeable Megatron. It’s harder to hate you. </em></p><p><em><br/></em>“Yeah,” Skids snorts, “Because he’s the enemy.”</p><p><br/>The smile leaves the bots face, and he nods thoughtfully, “And he will have to account for his actions after he helps us sniff out the crew.”</p><p><br/>“Maybe we should split up, into two teams?” The bot holding me suggests.</p><p> </p><p>Riptide let’s out a loud scoff, his white faceplate displaying his doubt, “Why, so twice as many things can go wrong? If anything we should be sticking close together.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“The quantum foam is leaking out of one of the engines on the other half of the ship,” Nautica explains, “It’s only a matter of time before the Lost Light explodes. We need to get over their quickly and make sure no ones hurt.”</p><p><br/>“I’ll come with you, I think I can fix the Rod Pod to get us over there,” Nightbeat offers, but the femme simply waves him off.</p><p> </p><p>”No need,” she says, “My alt mode is space worthy over short distances.” Setting me down on the hard metal surface she collapses in on herself transforming into a futuristic purple and yellow submarine. Except, it looks less like the subs we have back on Earth, and more like the cross between a space ship and a sub. “You stay here (y/n), I don’t want anything to happen to you.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>A small frown fills my face, “Okay, but please be careful? Both of you.” I point at the two bots and they nod before heading off. <em>Great all alone with some bots I barely know. </em>Spinning on the heel of my space boots, I’m met face to face with Ravage. His helm is low to the ground, and I take a step back at his closeness. The red optics adoring his face glance at mine for a second before moving to behind me. He simply steps around me, heading for whatever the cat was looking for. <em>Okay...?</em></p><p> </p><p>”What is it Ravage? Have you found something?” Megatron asks.</p><p> </p><p>”Someone,” he simply responds. We all start to follow him, towards whomever he has sniffed out. <br/><br/></p><p>Riptide let’s out a loud scoff, but follows none the less, “Go on, tell us who you’ve sniffed out. C’mon impress us, or is there a limit to what you “master trackers” can-“ </p><p> </p><p>“Ultra Magnus,” the cat growls out, effectively shutting the tall blue bot up. Coming from behind a flipped over table we come to find the small green and white body of Minimus Ambus. Plus a new hole in his side. My stomach turns at the sight. <br/><br/></p><p>“Haha fail!” <em>God Riptide shutup please, </em>“That’s not Ultra Magnus. I’m waiting for confirmation from the judges and... oh my Primus! Not only is it a fail, but a monumental one at that!”</p><p><br/>“Whoever he is he’s dead,” Megatron snaps, “I know you like to prattle on when you’re scared Riptide but show some respect.” The blue bot looks away ashamedly and let’s out a quiet apology. Shaking my head at the two bots, I join Getaway in examining the body. <em>Jeez, I don’t like the guy but, I can’t help but feel sad seeing him like this. He doesn’t deserve this.</em></p><p> </p><p>”It is Ultra Magnus,” I say, catching everyone’s attention.</p><p> </p><p>”Yes, it’s just him out of his armour. His real name is Minimus Ambus,” Getaway adds, sending the body in his arms a long sad look, “But, how did you know that (y/n)?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Earth’s government informed me, I didn’t realize it wasn’t common knowledge till now,” I shrug, feeling a bit guilty for outing something the bot probably wanted to keep a secret. <br/><br/></p><p>“Here’s the Magnus armour,” Skids calls out, pointing at it a couple meters from us. Pausing for a moment he places a blue and red hand on his faceplate, “Whoever did this knew to cut his hand off to stop him from teleporting. Then, shot him with a single blast to the chest. The attacker then dragged him from his armour as the final indignity - wait -“ he lets a gasp leaning down to the large gapping hole in the armours side, “-He was shot with a fusion cannon. Not some normal blaster.”</p><p><br/>All eyes focus on the bot in the room who used to lug around said cannon on his arm. </p><p><br/>“What are you saying?” Megatron asks, raising a brow.</p><p> </p><p>An angry finger slams into his chestplate, “I’m saying this is a future Lost Light and future you is nowhere to be seen!” <br/><br/></p><p>“We’ve explored one room!” <br/><br/></p><p>Skids faceplate fills with fury, “The only two bots, your co-captain and your first officer are dead! And I’m saying at least one of these murders was by your weapon of choice!” </p><p><br/>Walking away from Getaway and Minimus Ambus’s body, I creep toward Skids with caution. <em>We don’t need more conflict right now. Even if Megatron is the main suspect. </em>I place a soft cautious hand against his blue pede. The bot sends a quick glance down, and relaxes his stance against the co-captain. Offering me his servo, I step on. <br/><br/></p><p>“I don’t even have my cannon anymore, you made me melt it after I surrendered.” <br/><br/></p><p>“So?” The harsh tone of Skids voice softens slightly, trying to keep himself calm, “Anything can be replaced.” <br/><br/></p><p>“But, I didn’t even know about the teleport let alone this Minimus Ambus until...” a look of dread flashes over his grey faceplates, his red optics widening, “Until you just told me.” <br/><br/></p><p>“And you’ll be in possession of that knowledge in the future,” I add, sharing a look with the sizzling red optics.</p><p> </p><p>”Exactly, you’ll have all that knowledge when you decide to tear the ship apart,” The blue bot continues, moving to hold me closer to his chest plates. </p><p> </p><p>“I would never-“</p><p> </p><p>”Just like you’d never become an Autobot?” Skids interrupts. Silence fills the air for a moment, before Megatron bows his head in defeat.</p><p> </p><p>”You’re right,” he sighs, and Ravage lets out a loud growl in protest, “No Ravage, they’re right. I-I’m no longer qualified to predict my own future. I wouldn’t blame you if you locked me up. In fact, you should, given the circumstances, until you’ve figured out what happened.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Jesus, if he keeps being so honourable... it makes one want to forget for a moment what he’s done.</em>
</p><p><br/>“I promise, I won’t resist.” <br/><br/></p><p>————</p><p><br/>Clang! <br/><br/></p><p>A loud metallic scratching sound came from inside the closest the Autobots had decided to lock Megatron and Ravage in. <em>Must be a cat fight. Oh god (y/n), why? </em>Scolding myself for my own bad pun, I take a seat beside the large door. After locking the two mechs inside, Skids had decreed it was safer for me to stay here. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>“Can’t have you getting killed on us now! Earth would probably be pretty mad about it.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I understand their hesitation to take me along. In the bots eyes, I am a frail damsel in distress. I hate being looked down on, but honestly who could blame them? I’m basically the size of one of their digits. Still, it stung a little. Especially after all that training. <em>God, all those drills to be still treated like this huh? </em><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Hushed voices peak through the cracks in the walls and the door. I can’t make out anything the two are saying to each other, but it doesn’t sound like a light conversation by the pitch of their voices. They’re speaking in Cybertronian as well, I can tell by the way the words sound; metallic, and soft. Like a song. Closing my eyes, I allow my self to be taken away by the melody their conversation makes. <em>I could fall asleep like this, drifting in space, surrounded by a million things that could kill me. Just as long as they keep talking. </em>The fear and panic from earlier had completely dissolved at this point from my body. <em>I can’t believe the voice of someone who’s slaughtered thousands calms me down. What is wrong with me? </em><br/><br/></p><p>The lights around me flash on, interrupting my thoughts. Standing up, I brush some debris off the white material around my knees. Searching the now lit up space, the lights only add to the horror of the room. Highlighting every little nook and cranny like spotlights in a museum. <br/><br/></p><p><strong>“Liaison (Y/n)?” </strong>Megatron cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the room they were stuck in. He continues to speak in clear Cybertronian, so I answer back in it. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <strong>“Yes?” </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“We’ve discovered more of the crew.” <br/><br/></strong>
</p><p>I press a hand to the door my (h/c) brows furrowing, <strong>“What do you mean? Who? Are they alive?” <br/><br/></strong></p><p>
  <strong>“No... they’re not online. It’s Ratchet, Drift and another bot I don’t recognize. I... I’m sorry (y/n). I know that must not mean a lot coming from me.” <br/><br/></strong>
</p><p>My forehead comes to rest on the door now, and I grit my teeth. Slamming my tiny fist against the door, a soft bang echos around the room. Fire fills my veins, beginning in my fist and travelling to the rest of my body. <em>Why? Why he-he didn’t deserve this! Why, why couldn’t I protect him in the future?! How useless can I possibly get?!</em></p><p> </p><p><strong>”What was that?” </strong>Ravage speaks through the door now. <br/><br/></p><p><strong>“Nothing,” </strong>taking long, deep breaths I rub a hand against my throat. My vocal chords were beginning to ache from speaking the alien language so much. The fire continues to rage in my body, but I ignore it. <strong>“Do you know how they died? Or who did it?” </strong>I pause for a moment biting at my lip, <strong>“Can we- can we stop them Megatron?” </strong>My voice grows weak at the end, oozing with desperation. <br/><br/></p><p><strong>“Yes, I think I know who did it,” </strong>The ex-con replies after a moment. </p><p><br/>The comms interrupt us before he can say anything more. Reports from the other bots coming in, all gruesome finds from forced transforming, to an impaled Tailgate. Bile fills my throat at that image. <em>What kind of monster could do that to such a kind bot? </em></p><p><br/>“I’ve found these Autobots to have been killed in very specific ways,” Megatron says.</p><p> </p><p>”Don’t tell me,” it’s Skids voice now reaching my ears through the comms, “They’re missing transformation cogs?” <br/><br/></p><p>“No, but I think we have reached the same conclusion Skids,” a dark tone takes over Megatron’s voice, “The ship was attacked by the Decepticon Justice Division.” </p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>Five minutes later, and the whole group had gathered back in what used to be Swerve’s bar. Megatron and Ravage had been released from their makeshift cell. The large grey mech stretches out his limbs, and gives me a soft look. <em>I don’t need your pity. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“No one panic,” Nautica yells, rushing into the room with Nightbeat on her heel struts, “I’m not quite sure why we are all in such a hurry though.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“It’s an old wartime game Nautica, someone says D.J.D. and you find your friends then run like hell,” Getaway jokes, but the underlying panic in his speech was obvious.</p><p> </p><p>“Who is this D.J.D. then?” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>Riptide is the bot who decides to answer her, “A free roaming kill squad of five. They love nothing more than to hack, stab and shoot Decepticons who step out of line. Of course, they just love killing Autobots too.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“Sweet Solas Prime, (y/n) did you know about this group as well?” The purple femme turns her helm down to me.</p><p> </p><p>I hesitate for a moment, searching my memories for everything Fowler and Ratchet had taught me about the sadists, “Yes, if I’m correct, they love to torture their victims. One member Helex, he likes to force his victims to consume their own processors. And their leader Tarn,” I try to scrap my brain for every bit of information Ratchet had shared with me on the group, “He modelled himself after Megatron.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Yeah I’m surprised you know so much,” Skids adds, “Tarn even had his own fusion cannon. But, unlike Megatron he has a morphing addiction. That’s why he makes his victims transform before he kills them. It’s easier to remove a warm transformation cog.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I... I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like when they arrived on board,” I shudder, thankful I hadn’t gone into the room to see future Ratchets body. <em>I have enough nightmares as it is. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“How do you know about the D.J.D.?” Ravage asks, taking a seat in front of me and swishing  his tail side to side. <em>Like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“Ratchet and my superiors told me about them, while I was in training back on Earth.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Your government seems to know an awful lot about our race and even some of its secrets liaison. Yet we know little about you,” Megatron hums, those stupid red optics trying to read my thoughts.</p><p><br/>Facing up at the alien, I point a gloved finger at him giving him my best best glare, “It’s not like any of your kind has tried to hide this information. It’s not my fault if you feel at a disadvantage. Have you ever even sought out information about me or my government?” A frown is the only answer I need, “Exactly, don’t blame me for your egotistical ways Megatron.” <br/><br/></p><p>A snort leaves Getaway’s intake and he’s quick to apologize. <em>I never thought sassing a millennium old ex-warlord would feel so good.</em></p><p> </p><p>”I knew this would happen,” the large mech says, moving past our conversation, “The D.J.D. was never loyal to me, only the decepticon cause. By renouncing said cause you can’t expect there to not be repercussions.” </p><p><br/>“But we found Overlord, decapitated,” Nightbeat murmurs.</p><p> </p><p>”I don’t see the relevance,” Nautica shrugs.</p><p> </p><p>“Rewind-“</p><p> </p><p>”The data ghost?”</p><p> </p><p>”-yes, he was offlined because Overlord escaped from his cell. The con was killed as well. So, how come he was here for the D.J.D. to find?” <br/><br/></p><p>“It’s almost like established events have been edited,” I point out and the mech gives me a nod. </p><p><br/>Before anyone could add anything else, bold blue bolts struck across the room like lightning. The whole group let out a shout, moving to dodge the bands of light. <br/><br/></p><p>“Now what’s happening?!” Ravage asks voicing the same question everyone had.</p><p> </p><p>”Its the ship!” Nautica shouts, grabbing me quickly and shoving me against her chest. <em>I’m not a child,</em> “It’s reacting to the quantum foam!” <br/><br/></p><p>“I’ve fixed the Rodpod, let’s get out of here!” Riptide yells.</p><p> </p><p>”But we can’t leave yet, we have to look for survivors!” The purple femme yells back, her grip on me tightens slightly and I flinch at the added pressure. The bolts stop, and everyone lets out an audible sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“There are no survivors Nautica,” Megatron states, a stone cold look on his faceplates.</p><p> </p><p>”How can you know that?” <br/><br/></p><p>“There will be no survivors.” <br/><br/></p><p>“But how can you know that?!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Because,” he growls out, “I trained them to be thorough.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Hold on,” it’s Ravage that speaks out in protest this time, “I smell something.” Stalking towards the shell of Ultra Magnus, he sniffs it, “I can smell someone.” </p><p><br/>Megatron let’s out a noise of disbelief crouching by the armour, “And I can see someone.” He reaches into the armour with his huge black servos. “Well well well,” he pulls out a bot that is tiny compared to the mountain of a mech holding him, “Tarn is getting sloppy.” <br/><br/></p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>After finding the minibot that turned out to be Rewind, Nautica and Nightbeat were quick to connect the dots of what was happening. All thanks to Rewind’s nightmarish memories of course. <em>The poor bot... having to watch that all happen. And his poor conjunx endura. God, how can he even still function? </em>Thinking about how the minibot was forced to watch the bot he loves most be tortured sent a fury through my nerves I hadn’t felt in years. <em>No one deserves to be put through that. </em>From these memories, something good did come out of it at least. After hearing of these events, the two bots explained that we were in fact not on a future Lost Light. Nautica began by explaining that after the explosion caused by take off, the ship’s quantum engines were forced to choose between two locations, but instead of picking one or the other it chose both. Both ships were still the original’s, but sent to different regions in space. It was really cute to watch Nautica be so passionate when explaining this. </p><p><br/>Nightbeat goes on to tell us the different histories of the two ships, stopping when he reached the end of Rewind chip. The tattered minibot was quick to pick up where he left off though. From that we learned somebot on board has tipped off the D.J.D., among having to listen to him explain his lovers death to us. <br/><br/></p><p>Which brings me to where I am now, still in Nautica’s hand, pitying the poor boy below me. <br/><br/></p><p>“I’m so sorry you were put through that Rewind,” I offer weakly, only to receive a weak nod of his helm.</p><p> </p><p>”Yeah... yeah. Who are you again? I don’t remember a human joining the crew,” he points out, not bothering to look up at me.</p><p> </p><p>”Oh, my names (y/n) I’m a liaison sent from Earth.” <br/><br/></p><p>The poor bot just nods. <br/><br/></p><p>“Right, hate to interrupt,” Riptide calls from the giant hole cut out of the room, “But Nautica’s string thingys are acting up.” </p><p><br/>“Do you mean the highly explosive quantum foam?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Uhhh yeah that red stuff, it’s spreading.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh that is not good,” the purple femme looks out the hole, the planet below peeking through the red webs, “It could tear the planet to shreds if we don’t stop it soon.” <br/><br/></p><p>“It’s an A-level planet, it might be populated. Which means we have to act,” Skids says. <br/><br/><br/>Nautica places a thoughtful digit against her derma, “If my theory of there being two ships is correct, then by shutting the quantum drums down-which are remotely linked to the engines-should stop the engines, which should get rid of the foam.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Except,” Ravage raises a claw, “those drums are already surrounded by deadly foam. If we leave now, we can outrun the explosion.” <br/><br/><br/></p><p>“No, we need to fix this lives are at risk,” Skids orders, crossing his arms over his chest plate.</p><p> </p><p>“You said it “might” be populated,” Megatron says, “If the planet was full of Cybertronians I would understand stopping the foam. But I doubt that’s the case.” </p><p><br/>“Wowwww,” I drag out from the femme’s servos, “Really feeling the love here. Please allow me to just throw myself into the deadly explosive red foam.” The grey bot just sends me a glare with his bright red optics. “Way to show your true colours, Lord Megatron.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my Primus, I’m liking you more and more there squishy,” Getaway chuckles. <br/><br/></p><p>“You forget, I am your prisoner,” his tone becomes flat, “I’ve only be granted conditional bail until we find the Knights of Cybertron. Where precisely in my bail does it say I must risk my life to save a servoful of strangers? Where does it?” </p><p><br/>Skids slams a blue digit into the Autobot symbol adorning the mechs chest, “Right fragging there.” <br/><br/></p><p>The blue mech went on to continue to lecture the mech, but I found that I couldn’t focus on his words. In fact, I couldn’t even focus on the room or the bots in it anymore. <em>When did the room start spinning. </em>My head began to ache, and I quickly checked my oxygen levels. Low. I had maybe an hour or two left. The suit had begun conserving air, meaning the amount I was getting wasn’t enough to keep me functioning normally. But, just enough to keep me alive. Swearing under my breath, I stumble in the soft hands falling on my side. <br/><br/></p><p>“(y/n)?” Nautica’s bright blue optics swirl in my vision, “(y/n) can you hear me?” </p><p> </p><p>“I-“ I place a shaky hand on one of her digits, “I’m running out of oxygen. M-my suit, i-it’s trying to keep me alive l-longer by outputting less air,” I pause trying to catch my bearings, “I don’t how much longer I can maintain consciousness.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Are you going to-“</p><p> </p><p>”Not if you fix this d-doll,” I smile weakly, at this point I had no strength in me to hold my own body up. <br/><br/></p><p>I can see her purple derma’s moving but, at this point I couldn’t really make out what she was saying. <em>I’ll just close my eyes, just for a second. They </em><em>feel so, so heavy...</em></p><p> </p><p>————</p><p><br/>“(Y/n)?” <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Huh? Who is that? <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>“(Y/n), please wake up.”<br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>They sound familiar... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>”(Y/n) c’mon! The ship is so boring without you!” <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>...and whiny.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>”No one will listen to my rants! Pleaseeees!”<br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Rodimus? <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>“Ugh, Ratchet why won’t she wake up?” </p><p> </p><p>“She’s been subjected to very low amounts of oxygen Rodimus, it’ll take her a bit to recover. Besides it’s been what? A megacycle since we got onboard the ship? That’s an hour for a human.”<br/><br/></p><p>“I know buts it’s been such a boring hourrrrrrr, plus I heard she sassed Megs! I wanna hear all about it!” <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>I think I’ll stay sleeping. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>“(Y/n), I can tell by your brain activity you’re awake now.” <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Fucking snitch. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>“You’re no fun Ratch,” I groan, peeking an eye open. “Rodimus, some personal space please?” His faceplate is hovering maybe a meter away from mine, and just buzzing with excitement now that I am awake. <br/><br/></p><p>“Sorry! Just worried ‘bout my favourite human!” He flashes his denta at me, and offering me a digit to help me sit up. Looking around, I found myself to be in the medbay. The medbay back on the Lost Light. </p><p><br/>“So they saved everyone after all,” a weight lifts off my shoulders and my whole body starts to feel lighter.<br/><br/></p><p>“Yeah, Nautica tried explaining it all to me but, I just told her the fact everything was fixed was good enough without the processor melting explanation.”</p><p> </p><p>I roll my eyes at him, running a hand through my (h/c) locks. My space suit is still on, but the helmet had been removed. <em>God I must smell, these suits don’t breathe well. <br/><br/></em></p><p>“Liaison (y/n), I’m glad to see you’re awake,” a new voice joins us in the room coming from the doors. <br/><br/></p><p>“Megatron, just who I wanted to see when I awoke,” my tone drips with sarcasm.<br/><br/></p><p>“Ohhhhh~” Rodimus let out, giggling at the drama. <br/><br/></p><p>“I suppose I deserve that. Can I speak to you for a moment?” He places an awkward servo behind his helm, almost looking ashamed.</p><p> </p><p>”It’s not like I can stop you,” I say, motioning to the red and yellow mech that it was okay. <br/><br/></p><p>“I um,” his optics dip to the side and Ratchet gets the memo, dragging the other co-captain away to give us privacy, “I fear I owe you an apology. My actions and words on the other Lost Light were offensive to say the least. Especially towards you. I’m sorry for that, I find myself constantly underestimating other sentient beings such as yourself. Yet, you always seem to prove that wrong. You spoke Cybertronian didn’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>”Yes,” I nod, crossing my arms.</p><p> </p><p>”I didn’t know that was even possible for an organic species,” the mech says honestly, “I know no one will believe me, but I’m not the mech I used to be. However, that doesn’t stop me from having moments where I revert to my old ways of thinking. You liaison (y/n), have done nothing but prove this as an outdated way of thinking.” </p><p><br/>I just blink. <em>What just happened? </em>The mech shifts on his pedes, an awkwardness filling the air between us. Taking a deep breath in, I let out a long sigh. Lifting up both hands, I motion for him to do the same. He does so slowly at first, confused by my sudden demands. Placing my tiny palm against his, I finally say something. <br/><br/></p><p><strong>“I am sorry about how unprofessional I have been acting as of late. That was wrong of me to do, even in a stressful situation. But, you cannot expect me to be able to forgive you for your crimes you committed against Earth,” </strong>I slide my fingers along his, pushing and pulling as I go. While I didn’t move his servo at first, he quickly caught on to what I was doing and follows my movements, <strong>“You must know though, beings everywhere are capable of so much, not just Cybertronians. While me speaking your language might be seen as a great feat, there are other life forms out there who can do so much more.” </strong>I try to ignore the warmth that seems to never stop emitting from the seams in his serves, <strong>“I can’t forgive you for what you did to my planet. But, I can forgive you for what you’ve done to me.”</strong></p><p> </p><p>The mech simply stares. I can hear his processor groaning, straining to try and find an ulterior motive. <br/><br/></p><p><strong>“I don’t deserve forgiveness from you,” </strong>Megatron’s motions against my hands are painfully soft, as though I’d break at any moment. <strong>“I must admit you’re right. I’ve let my ego get in the way of growing as a bot.” </strong>A thoughtful look crosses his burning red optics, <strong>“Will you teach me?” <br/></strong></p><p>
  <strong><br/>“Teach you what?” <br/><br/></strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>“Teach me to understand your kind, your culture, your world in ways I didn’t before? Teach me to grow?” <br/><br/></strong>
</p><p>My mouth drops open at the request, and the usual cockiness I’m sure he would’ve supplied to that reaction was nowhere to be seen. I hesitate on my answer. It is now my turn to search the bots optics for some secret ulterior motive. <em>How can I even trust such a mech? <br/><br/></em></p><p>Yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to say no. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <strong>“Okay.” </strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Saturday Night’s Alright For a Fight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There are mentions of sexual harassment and blood in this chapter, as well as harsh language is used. So, please take cation when reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After agreeing to help Megatron, I was quick to escape as fast as possible. Some would say I was “unintentionally” avoiding the mech, some could say I’ve just been “really busy”. And by “really busy”, I mean fleeing to Ofsted XVII the moment I got out of the medbay. Whirl had caught up to me on my trek to my room, saying him and some others had decided to visit an outpost on the planet, or in other words an alien bar. Normally, I would’ve said no, but at that moment I heard Megatron’s voice down the hall. So, Tailgate, Cyclonus, Whirl and I boarded a shuttle, and zoomed away from the ship. <em>And perhaps maybe running away from the huge grey mass that was the ex-Decepticon leader. Maybe. </em><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Squash? You coming?” Whirl asks, his yellow eye peering back at me, the other being covered by a black eyepatch. He’s skipping ahead of me towards the building as he twirls one of his turquoise blue pigtails. <em>How the hell does he pull the look off? </em>The three Cybertronians had decided it’d be best to visit the outpost in their holomatter forms, as most the aliens there were organics. Most organic life forms don’t seem to like the robotic race, I don’t really ask why. Or why Whirl decided a teenage girl was the best form to take. </p><p> </p><p>”Whirl, she has a name,” Tailgate huffs. His usual holomatter human, which I was told was a toddler, had been changed for the occasion. Now, a short blonde haired man stood before us. His face still kept the youthfulness the minibot embodied, with wide wandering sky blue eyes. The suit on his body looked like a sailor’s suit, with a matching cap marked with a T. Combined with Cyclonus’s Victorian look, the four of us really made for quite the group. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I’m coming,” I say, jogging to catch up to the three. Taking Tailgate’s outstretched hand, I let him swing our arms between us. “Whirl, don’t you think you look a bit young to be in a bar?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Pfft, what’re they going to do stop me?” An evil smirk graces his face, and his little hand grabs my other one. <em>God, I feel like a mother taking her kids to school. Haha, imagine that, me a mother. With kids who are actually aliens. I think I’ve officially started to lose my mind. <br/>
<br/>
</em></p><p>“You two are acting like sparklings,” Cyclonus sighs, coming up on Tailgates other side. His form of a regal Victorian woman fit him well, and he honestly made for quite the attractive human. Not that he wasn’t already good looking in his natural physique. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The outpost ahead of us was the only building in sight, only nature and what looked to be other spaceships around it. The warm air of the planet felt nostalgic against my skin, the soft rustling of the leaves on the trees made it almost feel like Earth. It made me want to stay out here, instead of heading into the bar/outpost in front of us. The smell of high grade is potent, even though we are still meters away. <em>I shouldn’t, </em>I tell myself, <em>because I’m afraid I won’t want to leave. </em>Letting go of the two bots hands, I push open the rusty green door in front of us. The air now reeked of all kinds of alcohol, and my noise scrunches up.</p><p> </p><p>”Booze!” Whirl skips past me into the building, and the rest of us follow closely behind. Alien species of different kinds filled the bar. Some were the same height as us, others towered a few meters above us. A group by the bar stood out the most though. The group of about nine or ten are especially loud, shouting and laughing amongst themselves. They all look to be around six feet tall, their flesh all different shades of purple. Instead of hair, on the top of their heads were tentacles almost like that of an octopus’s. But, they still treat it the same as my hair. Some had it tied up in buns or ponytails, others letting it hang loose around their faces. Their hands were only adorned with three large fingers. The thing that stood out the most though is the large gills on their necks, flapping up and down with each laugh. That and their razor sharp teeth. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Cyclonus snaps me out of my thoughts, placing a soft hand upon my shoulder, “Are you alright liaison (y/n)?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Yes,” I send him quick smile, “lost in thought that’s all.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I see, come let’s join the others.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The booth Whirl chose is definitely the cleanest in the outpost, and that isn’t saying much. The large brown table between us is littered with stains, some I don’t even want to know what they are. Our seats weren’t much better. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I don’t see why you’re so excited Whirl. You drink on the Lost Light, what makes this bar so different?” I ask, resting my chin in my palm.</p><p> </p><p>”Because, this is exciting, this is new,” he spreads his pale arms out, “unknown bar, unknown species, unknown outcomes!” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>I roll my eyes, and Tailgate chuckles, “I’ll go get us some drinks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your own race creates enough drama as it is, you don’t need other species to do it for you,” I point out, Cyclonus agrees with a slight grin and nod. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Whirl points a finger at me, “Squishy, you’re not wrong. But, you are boring and do nothing but march around like a miniature Ratchet. See, because you act like there’s a stick up your exhaust, and always are so busy on “important matters”,” he makes air quotes with his pale fingers. “I have to look for other organic forms to spice things up. Really, you could try a bit harder to be entertaining.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Seriously Whirl?” The purple mech beside me growls out. My lips form a flat line, and I deadpan at the snarky bot across from me. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Yes, how rude of me,” the tone of my voice drips with sarcasm, “I’ll put my best efforts forward to be more entertaining.” Raising my left hand I flip him off. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>A deep sigh comes from our left, “I see you two are getting along.” Tailgate sets the drinks down, handing me one as well. The pink high grade stings my nostrils. <em>Yum, poison.</em> I push mine over to the one eyed Autobot, sending the minibot a shy smile.</p><p> </p><p>”Sorry Tails, it’s poisonous for humans.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw slag my bad (y/n)!” He rubs a hand against the back of his head, sliding into the booth beside Whirl. I wave him off, looking out the small window to my right. Brownish grass covers the ground outside like a blanket. Large mountains could be seen in the distance, blocking the rest of my view of the planet. <em>I’m not one to get homesick, </em>I turn away from the window back to the group of aliens I’m sitting with, <em>but, being in space and the only one of my species is... hard. <br/>
<br/>
</em></p><p>”-I’m so happy for Chromedome and Rewind, they’re so cute together!” Tailgate chimes, taking a big gulp of his drink through a long straw. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Blah blah blah, all that romantic junk makes my tanks churn.” Whirl chucks back his highgrade, reaching for the next.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”It is a nice turn of events isn’t it,” Cyclonus hums, taking a small sip from his glass before setting it down. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Yes,” I look at the minibot, “Romance is a gift in today’s universe some could say.” Then to the Victorian dressed mech. Whirl and I share a knowing look. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“It is,” red eyes burn into his drink before he takes another sip from it.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Everyone can only hope to experience it one day,” the bot in the sailor suit adds making a slurping noise from his straw. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Whirl and I both roll our eyes, <em>what a pair of fucking idiots. </em><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What about you (y/n),” Tailgate asks, resting his head on his fists. His large doe like eyes blink at me innocently. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Raising an eyebrow, I shake my head, “Ugh, no thank you, human relationships are overrated.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Ohhh, there’s a story here~,” the menacing look on Whirl’s holomatter’s face somehow reaches the blonde bots as well.</p><p> </p><p>”No story. Like you said, I’m boring.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“C’mon, no one says things like that without having a story to tell Mushy.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>A light smack hits Whirl’s arm, followed by a scolding from Tailgate. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Maybe if you called her by her name she’d tell us!” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Well, maybe if flesh and bones here wasn’t bolted up tighter than Ultra Magnus’s aft-“</p><p> </p><p>”Liaison (y/n), would you help me get another round?” The ex-con grabs my hand, nodding his head towards the bar. I quickly agree, <em>Cyclonus you truly are my knight in shining armour. </em><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The two in the booth begin to bicker, but we pay them no mind. Pulling at the sleeves on my deep green coloured knit sweater, I’m glad for my outfit of choice. The outpost/bar is cold compared to the soft warm breeze outside. However, I didn’t have much time to focus on the coldness of the room, as the rowdy group by the bar shouts gain in volume. My nerves quiver, and my whole body becomes alert at their loudness. Cyclonus seems to pay them no mind, signalling the bartender over and ordering more drinks. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Would you like anything? I think they have alcohol safe for humans here,” the mech asks as I lean against the metal bar with him. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“No, I’m technically on duty right now so I probably shouldn’t.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You know, I’m not one to deny duty before leisure,” ruby red eyes bore into mine, before shifting back over to the two Cybertronians at the booth, “But, you just almost died. You’ve also been in space for half a cycle, that’s half a cycle from your planet. It’s not a crime to enjoy yourself while your here.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The caring tone from the bot catches me off guard for a moment, “I-uh-yes,” I stumble, “You’re right. And you’re not the first to mention it.” I grumble.</p><p> </p><p>”So, shall I-?” Cyclonus is cut off, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. A three fingered purple hand had wrapped itself around the waist of the purple dress adorning the bot. A pair of sharp teeth appear by the tanned skin above the mechs ear.</p><p> </p><p>”Hey there gorgeous~,” the alien slurrs, wrapping his other arm around Cyclonus’s shoulders. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Not interested,” the Cybertronian grunts, pulling himself from the males grip. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Oh come now,” one of his buddies joins him on Cyclonus’s left, running a grimy finger down the holomatters face. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Hey,” I grab the hand forcing it away from his face, “Your answer is no, so leave us alone.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The aliens turn their attentions to me, and the one standing behind Cyclonus let’s a dark black tongue out to lick across his lips. </p><p><br/>
“You know sexy,” the one who’s wrist is in my grip purrs, “if you wanted a piece of the action all you had to do was ask.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>I hold back the need to hurl right there, giving the disgusting male a deep glare, “Leave us alone.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Don’t be like that, the boys and I just want to have a good time,” the purple organic by the mech slides a hand back gripping Cyclonus’s ass. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Get your hands off of him!” Anger fills my veins as I reach out for the Cybertronian. A flash of fear fills the mechs eyes, a fear I’m sure he’d never shown anyone before. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You’ll get your turn,” a firm hand gropes my hips pulling me back into the body behind me. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>My heart rate quickens, my face flushing red, and a fire rages through me. Where his hands touch me feels as though it’s scorching my skin. My jaw tightens, and my hands ball into fists. <em>Fuck this. <br/>
</em></p><p><br/>
The elbow connects with the aliens nose before he can even realize I’d moved. I spin around slamming a fist into his cheek before he can react to the first attack. He hits the floor with a loud thump. Cyclonus is quick to take his creeper out with a flick of his head. The alien stumbles back clutching his face cowering in pain. The rest of the group of purple organics turns around, yelling in their native language at the two on the ground before turning to us.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Now this is entertaining blood bag!” Whirl shouts, skipping over to us from the booth. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The group start to close in on the three of us, and I turn to face Cyclonus, “Get Tailgate out of here, we’ll handle it.” He doesn’t question me, just nods moving quickly towards the confused minibot still by the booth. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Ohh, we’ll handle it?” The mech grins, raising his small fists.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>A shorter alien makes the first move, throwing a fist at my head. Ducking out of the way, I grab his arm and use the momentum from his punch to flip him onto his ass. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Yes, we will.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Whirl let’s out a battle cry, launching his body at one of the crowd. Rolling up my sleeves, I begin to Bruce Lee kick the fuck out of some aliens. Knocking another to the ground, I move onto the next. Two come at me from each side, and I lower my stance. The one on the right reaches out to grab my hair, and the alien on the left tries to grab my arm. Dodging both their arms, I thrust a jab out at the one on my rights stomach. Pivoting on my toes, I kick my foot up slamming it into the other male. The latter alien hits the floor with an audible bang, but the first doesn’t go down so easily. I spot two more coming in my peripherals, and ready myself. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You fucking bitch!” The alien who I’d jabbed in the stomach growls out, but before he can reach me two legs wrap around his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, that’s no way to speak to someone!” Whirl laughs, choking the alien with his tiny holomatter thighs, “Especially when we are kicking your afts!” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Backing away from the two coming at me, I found myself drawing closer to the booth we had once occupied. A third joins their pursuit, and one gets up off the ground going after Whirl. I stop my pacing backwards, reading myself. Adrenaline pounds into my nerves and veins, my heart beating even faster. Letting out a yell, I dash forward jumping at two of them and close lining them with my outstretched arms. Bending forward, I roll onto the ground. The third alien is already on me before I can get up. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You think you’re some hot shit don’t you?!” The male spits, slamming a fist into my rib cage. I flinch at the contact, and retaliate by driving my fingers into his eyes. “AHHH!” He howls in pain clutching at them. I don’t stop there, rolling us over so I’m on top. Raising a fist up to knock him out I let out an angry yell. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>CRASH! <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Glass shatters around me, and pain floods my body stemming from the back of my head. My vision begins to blur, but I don’t let it slow me down. Staggering to my feet, I whip around. The alien who’d been groping Cyclonus was behind me, a shattered bottle clutched in his three fingered hand. He stumbles back, dropping the broken bottle to the ground with a loud CLANG! <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Okay fights over,” The bartender calls from the bar, their voice coming out shaky, “Now just leave. Please?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”You heard him,” The alien in front of me sneers with false confidence, but his trembling body gives away to his true fears, “L-leave.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Stepping over the purple body below me, I take a step towards the alien, “Apologize.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“W-what?”</p><p> </p><p>”I said apologize!” I yell, taking another step closer, “Say you’re sorry, say you’ll never do it again! Say you know what you did is wrong!”</p><p><br/>
”Y-you can’t make me,” he whimpers, stumbling back into the booth as I stalk forward. I hear the thump of a body hitting the floor behind me, and the whole bar goes quiet. Me and the alien being the only exceptions.</p><p><br/>
“Oh?” A devilish grin fills my face, “I can’t hmm?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“J-just fuck off! Leave me alone you crazy w-whore!” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">Tailgate’s POV:</span>
</p><p><br/>
I’d tried to stop Cyclonus from dragging me out. What if Whirl and (y/n) couldn’t handle themselves? They were outnumbered nine to two, and who knows what the aliens were capable of. I don’t even know what species they are!<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>I’d stopped struggling when I saw the look in the purple mechs optics, and my whole frame froze. It was only for a brief moment, but I caught it. Fear. <em>That’s why (y/n) told us to leave, it wasn’t just for me... it was for Cy too. </em>I scolded myself, <em>of course, he didn’t want to show he’s afraid. He’s supposed to be strong. He’s supposed to be the hero. Primus, I’d be scared too if some mech came onto me like that. Touched me like that. </em>I stood by his side outside the outpost, no further argument leaving my dermas. <em>He doesn’t want to be seen as weak, he’s always been a protector. </em>My tiny servos laid on his, giving a gentle squeeze. <em>Cy just wants to protect me. </em><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Hey, I’m okay,” my voice comes out barely above a whisper, “You okay?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>His burning optics stare back into mine. For a moment silence is all that surrounds us. Then he nods, “Yes.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>We stay there like that for a while. The chaos inside reaches our audio receptors at times, but we ignore it. It was nice. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Then (y/n) comes crashing out the window with one of the aliens in her grasp. I swear time slows down as she flies out the window, glass floating around them and a look of pure rage on her face. <em>Is that a smile?</em> They land on the ground, and she delivers one more punch, knocking him out. <em>Oh my Primus, she’s so badaft.</em> Standing up, she dusts glass off her coverings, and takes a deep intake of air. (Y/n) looks like a warrior standing there, bruised servos resting at her side. Peering back down at the organic on the ground, I realize it’s the one who had assaulted Cyclonus. Letting go of his servo, I stomp over to the two ready to give the alien a piece of my mind. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>A pair of shaky servos stop me.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”It’s ok Tails,” (Y/n) says, “Whirl and I took care of it.” Her whole body sways, and she rubs a fleshy servo against her offlined optics, “Just a little dizzy, don’t worry. Fucker got me with a bottle on the back of the head.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Leaning her frame against mine, I help her walk away from the scene. The humans sparkbeat and venting is erractic, loud enough for me to hear over the bartender who was chasing Whirl out of the building. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I think it’s time we take our leave,” Cyclonus lifts the liaison up into his arms.</p><p> </p><p>”I couldn’t agree more.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The four of us sprint for our pod, which we had parked further away than the rest. <em>I told Whirl to land closer, but he wouldn’t listen!</em> Making our way inside, we’re quick to revert out of holomatter forms and start the engines. Blasting off, we all sit back for a moment, venting heavily. Then the ex-wrecker has to go a open his derma’s. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Well, that was definitely more fun than getting drunk!” Whirl barks out a laugh, poking at the tired body in Cyclonus’s large servos. “You whooped tailpipe back there human!”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”Yes, it was surprising from such a small form to say the least,” The purple bot agrees with a tilt of his helm.</p><p><br/>
”Are you alright?” I ask, motioning for Cy to hand her over.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>(Y/n) forces a prideful grin, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” She goes to rub a shy servo against the back of her helm, but stops. Pulling it away she looks down at it. Her once (s/c) flesh is now stained red. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>I scream.</p><p><br/>
“Ratchet’s going to kill us.”</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p>
  <span class="u"><br/>
(Y/n)‘S POV:</span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I’m going to kill you.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“She started it Doc bot!” Whirl whines, shielding himself from a wrench with his huge claws.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”To be fair they deserved it,” I grumble, hissing as Ratchet cleans the cut.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“To be fair, you shouldn’t have gone in the first place! You should be resting! You just recovered from almost dying once, do you really feel the need to test fate some more?!” The medic scolds, his holomatter’s nimble fingers examining the damage, “You’re lucky you don’t need stitches. Primus, you’ll be the death of me one day (y/n).”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”Don’t be so harsh! She was just standing up for Cy and herself!” Tailgate tries to reason with the mech but, that doesn’t stop his scolding.</p><p><br/>
Whirl’s helm nods, agreeing with the minibot, “Not to mention meat bag here was kicking aft and taking names,” I cringe at the praises knowing they wouldn’t do anything to soothe the medics nerves, “I don’t where you learned to fight Squash, but I’m not gonna lie it turned me on a little.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Now you’ve done it you idiot,” Cyclonus snarls.</p><p><br/>
“OUT! ALL OF YOU OUT NOW!” Ratchet roars, and the three are quick to make themselves scarce. Finishing up with my injury, his human form plops down in front of me. His choice of an older man, with the remnants of red left in his white hair fits him perfectly. Especially, the prominent wrinkles created from his scrunched up eyebrows. <em>I worried him again. Ugh. </em>“(Y/n), what happened?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>I clear my throat, averting my eyes over at some other bots at the other end of the medbay, “I just wanted to get away for a bit after everything that happened. So, when I left with them I didn’t really think much could go wrong. But, you know how trouble likes to find me.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Sadly I do,” he lets a dry chuckle out, running a hand through his hair.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”Well this group of aliens they-“ I take a breath, “-they touched Cyclonus and I. We both told them to leave us alone. They wouldn’t listen.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“So, you figured you’d beat them up?”</p><p><br/>
”What was I supposed to do?! Let them keep harassing us?! Just because the idiots have a dick between their legs doesn’t mean they can do whatever they want!” I yell, glaring at Ratchet right in his light blue eyes. “Ugh, you weren’t there Ratch! They had their hands all over us, and who knows what they would of done if we didn’t fight back! I’m not going to apologize for teaching a couple of assholes a lesson.” My breathing gets louder and louder as I rant, and his lack of response angers me even more. “Can you honestly look me in the eyes and say you wouldn’t have done the same?” </p><p><br/>
Reaching out, he pulls me into him. It’s only then I realize I’m shaking. Hugging him back, I fight to control my rapid breathing. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Better now?” I nod into his chest, “Of course I would’ve done the same thing kiddo. I just hate seeing you hurt, and the fact some piece of slag would touch you...” he trails off, tightening his grip on my sweater for a second before venting out air, “I’m just glad you’re okay. I’m so proud of you for standing up for yourself (y/n).” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Thanks Ratch,” I smile into his lab coat. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>We just sit there for awhile, taking in each other’s presence. I can feel my body slowly begin to relax, along with his. Moments like this were nice, when it was just the two of us. We didn’t get these moments a lot anymore. </p><p><br/>
“Don’t go getting all mushy on me now sire,” I tease, and he groans pushing me off him. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Wouldn’t dream of it kid,” he replies, fizzing out and reverting back to his true form. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>I go to open my mouth to snap back with another witty comeback, but the moment gets interrupted by Ratchet’s comm going off.  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“It’s Rodimus,” the medic vents, offering me a servo, “He’s looking for you.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Time Warp</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this took so long! I’ve been pretty busy with school lately so this chapter is a bit rushed, but I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Captains,” I greet, hopping from Ratchet’s servo to Rodimus’s outstretched one, “What’s happening?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Megatron let’s out a grunt, “I’d like to know that as well. I’ve just come from the morgue, it’s... Trailcutter, he’s been offlined.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Oh,” a strong feeling envelops my chest, I never knew the bot well but I knew he was a good bot nonetheless. “Was he...?”</p><p> </p><p>”Murdered?” The ex-warlord’s optics darken, and he starts walking away, “Yes, by members of the D.J.D.” </p><p> </p><p>“I hate to add to this, but there’s more,” Rodimus adds, jogging to catch up to the other mech. <em>More? Oh god, what else? </em>“A few hours ago, Brainstorm tried to kill everyone.”</p><p> </p><p>”What?!” I yell, rubbing a hand against my temple. <em>Ugh, my head still hurts from earlier. </em><br/>
<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“After you fell unconscious, we discovered he was a double agent. A Decepticon double agent,” The grey mech explains.</p><p> </p><p>The bot holding me nods, “Yeah, soon after I told Megs here, he went to Swerves- and well-WHAM!” </p><p><br/>
“Care to elaborate what wham means?” <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“We think he’s being poisoning the engex supply with some kind of electro-sensitive toxin. When he opened his Briefcase, that activated it,” The kinda prime explains.</p><p> </p><p>”But no one died?” Megatron points out, taking a turn to the right. </p><p><br/>
Rodimus points a digit at him, “Exactly, because it turns out the rumours were true; Swerve does dilute his drinks. So everyone was knocked unconscious, other then our resident teetotalers,” he exvents, “Rung and Ultra Magnus.” </p><p><br/>
“How’d he take care of Ultra Magnus?” I ask, sitting down on the warm servos below me. I wince slightly, placing a palm against my rib cage. The spot where the alien had got me was starting to finally catch up with me, the adrenaline from the fight just now wearing off.</p><p><br/>
“A disaggregator gun.” The bright orange bot shrugs. <em>Yes of course, cause what else could it possibly be. </em>Entering a room, I realize where we had been headed this whole time; Brainstorm’s lab. “By the time Magnus- or I guess Minimus- had pulled himself out of the wreckage of his armour, Brainstorm had already escaped.”</p><p><br/>
“Escaped? To where, he can’t have gone far,” Megatron raises an optic ridge.</p><p><br/>
”Well actually yeah he did get pretty far, we think he’s four million years away.” </p><p><br/>
Megatron and I blink, “What.” </p><p><br/>
“We, well Perceptor, thinks Brainstorm’s travelled back in time four million years,” Rodimus explains, and I can feel the ache in my head growing.</p><p> </p><p>”I- hm, did you just? Hm,” The ex-warlord tries to process the information. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“At this point I’d believe it,” I sigh, and that gains a small smile from the co-captain holding me. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“This conversation is ridiculous!” The grey mech throws his black servos in the air before pointing an accusing digit at Rodimus, “You’re ridiculous! Everything that’s happened in the last few days is ridiculous! Half a cycle into this disaster of a quest and not a megacycle- a megacycle! Goes by where I have to take a step back and realize that I put myself in this mess by my own volition!” He continues to rant, “Why even bother finding the Knights of Cybertron?! Why postpone my trial?! I’ve already been convicted! This ship! You! This life! I’m already being punished!”  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Feeling better?” A bot calls from behind us, as Ultra Magnus joins us back in his suit of armour. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I-,” he places a servo over his optics exventing heavily, “Yes, I apologize.”</p><p><br/>
”Don’t worry, it’s practically a rite of passage to have a mental breakdown on the Lost Light,” the large mech says in a calm tone. So, <em>he treats someone he fought for millions of years against with more respect than me. What a dick.</em></p><p><br/>
“So who all knows about Brainstorm’s little trip?” I question gaining the red and blue bots attention. A frown graces his features at the sight of me. <em>Damn, fuck you too then jeez.</em></p><p><br/>
”Us four and Perceptor,” He replies, turning to Megatron, “Though I gather you weren’t alone when you discovered Brainstorm’s true allegiance?” </p><p><br/>
“No,” the grey mech shakes his helm, “I told the others not to say anything till we’d looked into it further.”</p><p><br/>
“Good, we don’t want to alarm anyone.” </p><p> </p><p>“And, how’re you planning on explaining what happened at Swerve’s?” I ask.</p><p><br/>
”Bad batch of engex, it happens,” he grunts out, “I don’t like lying but what else are we supposed to say? Someone they thought was their friend tried to kill them all and escaped by travelling through time?” </p><p> </p><p>“The two events have got to be related,” I say, twiddling my thumbs in my lap. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Megatron nods, “I agree, Braistorm didn’t time jump-“</p><p><br/>
”Time jump, I’m definitely using that,” Rodimus butts in. </p><p> </p><p>“-as I was saying, he didn’t time jump to escape punishment for trying to kill everyone. He did it so no one could interrupt him.” </p><p><br/>
“But,” Ultra Magnus starts, placing a huge servo over his equally large helm, “Why go back in time?” </p><p><br/>
“Are you serious?” Rodimus lets out a dry laugh, “I’m a Decepticon sleeper agent with a time machine, after millions of years of war its suddenly game over. Plus, I’m on the losing team, so what do I do?” </p><p><br/>
“You use the time machine to change the final score,” I finish, the four of us sharing a look. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p><br/>
————</p><p> </p><p>The next half hour was spent listening to a mind melting explanation from Perceptor on how exactly Brainstorm’s gone back in time. Granted, learning our reality might slowly start to disappear wasn’t exactly the most uplifting news to hear. Whatever the mech had gone back to change, it could slowly start affecting our timeline, until eventually this future simply doesn’t exist. And, of course we were going to give chase! Because, that’s the normal thing to do! This was not how I expected my day to go, from waking up from passing out due to a lack oxygen, to fighting a bunch of douche bag aliens in some sketchy bar, getting scolded by my adoptive alien dad, to now speaking of time travel as though I’m about to hop in the DeLorean. <em>Agent Fowler, what in God’s name did I agree to when I boarded this ship? <br/>
<br/>
</em></p><p>“Okay, okay,” I put my hands up, collecting the four Cybertronians attention, “This all great and everything, Nightbeat found that other suitcase on the other Lost Light and now we are going to go after Brainstorm four million years in the past,” I pause just letting all that sit for a moment, “But what’s he after? What’s he trying to change?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Isn’t it obvious,” Megatron asks, “He’s going to kill Orion Pax.” <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“Of course he is,” I sigh, rubbing a hand against my forehead. It then dawns on me that in the last two days I’d barely eaten, barely slept and I’m pretty sure I may be starting to become loopy. And, my ribs were killing me. <em>I need a nap, and a couple hours to myself. Was that too much to ask for? <br/>
<br/>
</em></p><p>“Are you quite alright liaison (y/n)?” Perceptor asks, his blue optics staring down at me analytically. Straightening my back, I wave him off.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Rodimus seems to take this question to heart -spark?- raising my small form up to his bright worried pools, “He’s right, you look exhausted. Have you even recharged since we got back?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Eyes widening, I’m sure I have the worst ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look on my face, “Uh, no,” I say awkwardly. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Are there not more pressing matters?” Megatron diverts the topic back to the main problem, allowing me to relax once again in the bright servos encasing me. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I agree,” Ultra Magnus grunts, eyeing me up and down suspiciously. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It takes everything in me not to flip him right then and there. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>————<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Fine I’ll go over what’s happening ONE more time,” the former prime groans out, leaning back dramatically against the chair he currently is occupying. A group of bots had been gathered in the room, something about their spark signatures being close to that of Brainstorms? I wasn’t quite sure, and the onset exhaustion was making it increasingly harder to concentrate. The group is really quite diverse, containing some bots I didn’t even think were fit for this kind of mission. The members were; Rodimus (obviously), Chromedome, Rewind, Tailgate, Cyclonus, Whirl, Rung, and Riptide. <em>Lord help us, are they seriously sending Whirl back in time?</em></p><p><br/>
“That’s all fine and dandy Rodders,” Whirl chirps up after the co-captain finishes explaining for the third time exactly what was happening, “But one question?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What?” The mech sighs out, resting his faceplate in his free servo.</p><p> </p><p>”Is Squishy coming? ‘Cause lemme tell you, that’s a sexy distraction I can’t avoid.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>CLANG!</p><p><br/>
As Cyclonus’s clawed servo connected with the back of the Wreckers helm, my own hand connected with my face. Blood rushes to my face, my ears heating up. </p><p><br/>
“What? You saw her there giving those aliens what they deserved. You can’t tell me that didn’t turn you on-“</p><p><br/>
CLANG! </p><p><br/>
This time it is Tailgate who gives a swift kick to the bots pede. Shaking an angry digit up at the taller bot, the minibot clears his intake to start a lecture. </p><p><br/>
Ultra Magnus cuts him off before he can even get one word out, “You did what?!”</p><p><br/>
”It’s not important,” I get out between grit teeth, moving my hands to meet the scrutinizing gaze above me, “There is a more pressing matter-“</p><p><br/>
”No, am I to believe that you got in a fight with some random aliens in the short time we’ve been back?!” His whole frame tightens up, anger dripping from every word leaving his intake.</p><p><br/>
Digging my nails into palm, I try to keep a calm tone, “Look, it wasn’t like I went there planning for it. They forced my hand.” </p><p><br/>
“And why should I even believe you?!” He roars, “You haven’t changed one bit liaison (y/n). You’re still nothing but a childish delinquent who does nothing but cause trouble.”</p><p>
  <em><br/>
God, I’m not overly religious or anything, but grant me some strength please.</em>
</p><p><br/>
”She was only trying to protect-“ Whirl starts, surprisingly the first to speak up. A quick look at the other bots in the room tells me they were all shocked by their superiors reaction.</p><p><br/>
”Don’t make excuses for her,” the tall mech crosses his arms across his chassis, “She doesn’t need any, I already can imagine how it happened. I’ve seen her in action before.” It takes everything in me at that moment not to flip him off. </p><p><br/>
“Okay Mags, let’s just calm down,” Rodimus pipes up, “Don’t you think you might be overreacting just a bit? I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal.” <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“What if those aliens were part of one of our alliances? How are we to know she hasn’t just destroyed that?! What if the Galactic Council finds out?”</p><p><br/>
“You wouldn’t want to align yourself with their kind,” I spit out, “Rodimus, put me down.”</p><p><br/>
Slowly, and uncertainty he lets me down onto the cold white metal ground. The moment my feet touch the floor, I’m striding towards the door of the lab. I hear Ultra Magnus call after me, but I just ignore him. Anger slowly builds in my body. Starting in my chest, it’s tendrils slink to the rest of my body. I clench my fists tighter, and I’m sure by now there must be deep crescents in my palms from my nails. But, I don’t say anything. I won’t give him the pleasure. Reaching the door, I finally stop, looking back to the group of bots over my shoulder. Ultra Magnus still stood there optics filled with disgust, as though the sight of me pissed him off. Every optic in the room is on me, taking in my every movement as though Primus himself had just walked in the room. And for some reason this just pushes me over the edge.</p><p><br/>
”You know, you’re not so innocent yourself Ultra Magnus,” his name slides out with every syllable containing disgust, “You act so high and mighty, so by the book, such a perfect law abiding bot. But, that didn’t stop you from indulging yourself while you were on Earth did it? Don’t act so perfect, you’re just as bad.”</p><p><br/>
And with that I strode out of the room, leaving a room full of confused and shocked Cybertronians, and one who I’m pretty sure is ready to throw me out into the void of space. Making it a few feet away, I slow my pace. The events of the past days finally catch up with me, my body and mind ache with exhaustion. <em>I know I fucked up, </em>I think, <em>but at this point I really don’t have it in me to care. </em>Picking my head up, I continue the journey to my room, for a long nap and some fucking coffee. </p><p> </p><p>————</p><p><br/>
Rodimus’s POV:</p><p> </p><p>(Y/n) stormed out of the room, in the most professional way possible of course, leaving all of us to try and figure out what the frag just happened. No one spoke at first, but I couldn’t just let the silence continue. It is simply just too awkward.</p><p> </p><p>”Mags, don’t you think you’re a little hard on her?” I ask, moving to stand, “You didn’t even hear out her side of it.” </p><p><br/>
“You were entirely to harsh on liaison (y/n),” Cyclonus agrees giving a harsh look towards the blue and red mech. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s no point in it, it’s over now,” he grumbles out, optics still glaring at the door she’d left through. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“But-“<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”I said there’s no point Rodimus,” he snaps, turning to face me, “Let’s move on.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Magsy, sir, I hate to agree with them but she didn’t anything wrong but give those glitches what was coming to ‘em,” Whirl steps in now, shaking one of his claws towards Ultra Magnus. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“There are more important matters to deal with, so leave it,” the tone that leaves his dermas does nothing to relieve the awkwardness in the room. The large mech doesn’t seem to care though, starting to explain the mission once more. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>As we continue on with the instructions for the mission, I can’t help but take in Ultra Magnus’s reaction to everything. A mix of emotions I’d never seen him express before seemed to encompass his faceplates for the next few kliks. But, he is quick to cover it up with his overwhelming aura of authority. I then think back to what (y/n) had said. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>“But, that didn’t stop you from indulging yourself while you were on Earth did it?” <br/>
<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What could she have meant by that? I’d never seen Ultra Magnus “indulge” in anything. Well, besides the time I made some of the crew take him out for some high grade. I’ve also never seen (y/n) act like that. There’s something going on here, and I’m going to figure out what it is. <br/>
</em>
</p><p>Then what Whirl said comes back to mind. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is Squishy coming? ‘Cause lemme tell you, that’s a sexy distraction I can’t avoid.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em><br/>
What the hell was that supposed to mean? I mean I guess she is quite pretty but... no her and Whirl can’t possibly be a thing? Right? And, what the pits happened on Ofsted XVII? <br/>
<br/>
</em>
</p><p>Grabbing a phone looking device, I join the other bots in group. <em>Going back in time huh? The surprises never stop heh. </em>A pinkish smoke comes off of our forms, and the room around us begins to disappear. <em>I hope (y/n)‘s okay.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>————</em>
</p><p><em><br/>
<br/>
</em>(Y/n)‘s POV:</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Once I’d reached my habsuite, I was quick to strip off my clothes. The argument with Ultra Magnus was stressing me out, causing my body to react in a way it thought would help. Which, over heating never does, I just get sweaty and more frustrated. I let out a low hiss as the material of the sweater glides over my the bruises along my rib cage. Going into the bathroom, I run a hand along the purple mark, flinching slightly when I hit an especially tender part. Dropping my pants, my socks and underwear are quick to follow before I jump into the welcoming arms of my shower. Warm water pours over me, and I try to wash away everything that’s just happened. Wash away the fact I almost died, the stupid bonding moment I had with Megatron, the fight, Whirl’s weird crush on me, and the whole childish yelling match between Ultra Magnus and I. It’s all so stupid. All of it. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Yet it all means so much, doesn’t it? <br/>
</em>
</p><p>Resting my head against the cold metal of the shower, I stare down at my hands. Small bruises and the tell tale redness of agitated skin litter my knuckles. Anger boils up once again from my stomach, and I let out a yell. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p><em>You’re not helping anyone by acting like this, </em>I tell myself, <em>get out there and fucking do something. </em></p><p><br/>
After my shower I was quick to get dressed in new clothes, and grab a granola bar for a quick snack. My stomach growled for more, but I chose to ignore it. It can wait for now. Snatching up my personal data pad, I take a seat with my back against my berth and start filling out reports. Drowning myself in work, I only get up every now and then to grab another snack or to make a cup of coffee. I try to ignore the fact that as I’m sitting here filling out measly reports for the people of Earth, my fellow crew members are embarking on adventure to literally save Optimus Prime. <em>‘Cause that’s totally a normal thing to do. <br/>
</em><br/>
<br/>
Taking some time to myself surprisingly helped. Ever since I’d joined the crew I didn’t really have much time to myself without a mech or femme bursting into my room. While I appreciate that I have these amazing bots who care for me, I need time to do this. To recharge. Pausing from my work, I got up and finally made myself a real meal. Well, as real as space food gets. Smiling to myself, I take a seat on my berth, looking out my window. Taking a couple of bites, I take a look at the stars outside. <em>God, if there’s one thing you can’t beat, it’s how beautiful it is way out here. </em>A slow comet speed by my window in the distance, and I felt at such peace. Bringing up the last bite of my food, I felt so relaxed, <em>finally just something normal. </em>Fowler soon interrupts my peace for a moment, giving me a quick call just to figure out what the fuck was happening.</p><p> </p><p>He then stops me once I start to explain the time travel (as best as I could, I’m no Nautica or Brainstorm) simply saying, “Just send me a report, I can already feel my hair turning grey just listening to it.” </p><p> </p><p>After he hung up, I continue my wonderful meal of dried up space food. It honestly wasn’t terrible, but no where near as good as the food back home. Looking back out the window, I try to squint as though I might be able to see the tiny little blue and green planet from here. The fork stops halfway up to my mouth. I blink. <em>Why are the stars not moving? </em></p><p><br/>
And, once again I’m thrown back into the fray, racing out the door and back down to Brainstorms lab. <em>I spoke too soon, why’d I think anything would be so easy?</em></p><p><br/>
My legs couldn’t carry me fast enough back to the lab, and every window I pass simply reminds me of the panic I should be feeling right now. A few mechs stumble out of the way when they see me coming, letting out a few slurs. I didn’t have time to pay them much attention though, comming Megatron the moment I reach the lab doors. They slide open for what feels like eons, and I tap my foot on the hard metal ground. My heartbeat is pounding in my ears from the dash, and I try taking a couple breathes to calm myself. Finally, the door opens all the way revealing the three mechs inside. The ex-con then offers me his huge black servo, and I don’t even think twice before climbing on. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Liaison (y/n)?” The mech holding me asks, bringing me over to the other two bots.</p><p> </p><p>”T-The stars,” I pant, out of breath from my sprint, “they’re not moving. Did we-“ I pause, sucking in more air, “Did we fail?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Not yet,” the grey bot shakes his helm, moving to a screen, “We simply have the wrong target.”</p><p> </p><p>”What do you mean?” Ultra Magnus asks, our eyes meeting for a moment before shooting back to the screen.</p><p> </p><p>Three dates were listed on it, and Megatron points to the first one, “The day I was arrested,” his digit moves to the middle one, “The day I lost Terminus,” and finally he lands on the last date, “And... the day I took my first life.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Brainstorm’s jumped again,” Perceptor calls out.</p><p> </p><p>”You don’t understand do you,” the grey mech says, giving the large blue and red bot a look I can’t quite read, “Brainstorm’s journey is my journey. These are my dates, my hotspots.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I think this it,” the scientist adds grimly from a console, “Whatever he does next is going to kill the timeline.”</p><p> </p><p>”Why are the lights flashing?” Ultra Magnus questions pointing at them.</p><p> </p><p>”It’s the quantum engines, they’re nearly out of power.” </p><p> </p><p>Placing a hand over my mouth, the severity of the situation finally sinks in, “But, Rodimus and the others-“</p><p><br/>
“I know, I need to get a lock on Brinstorm-“ The red and black coloured mechs form straightens up in excitement, “-I found him! Exact location and time!”</p><p> </p><p>Megatron’s free servo lays across his face plate, mimicking my own look of dread, “1st Cycle 012.”</p><p> </p><p>”Yeah, how’d you know?” Preceptor raised an optic ridge, turning his helm to look at us over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>”It’s the day I was created,” the servo slowly leaves his face plate, his burning red optics staring down at me for a moment before looking back up at the two Cybertronians, “And if Brainstorm has his way, it’s the day I die.” </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Big Girls Don’t Cry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is mentions of death, PTSD and anxiety attacks in this chapter. Please take caution before reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The room erupts with action, my world spins as I’m shoved into Megatron’s chassis, right up against his Autobot insignia. His ginormous black servo squishes my cheek against it, and my vision is blocked. I hear a loud CLANG! Followed by a shout of pain from Perceptor. Pressing my palms against the metal, I feel the now rapid thrumming of his spark underneath pounding against my fingertips. The heat from his plates has gone from a calm campfire to a raging forest fire. Pushing with all my might against the metal, I let out a soft grunt from the strain now put on my arms. I give up pretty fast though, the mech’s servo not even moving a millimeter. <em>Fuck those stupid stars, I should’ve just rolled over and gone back to bed. </em>Slumping against my metal prison, I have no choice but to sit there and listen.</p><p> </p><p>”Send me back now!” The grey giant roars.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I can’t-“ Perceptor is cut off by something, letting out a choking noise.</p><p> </p><p>”Brainstorm is going to kill me!” The voice above me shouts, “I have a right to defend myself!” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Megatron, please calm dow-“ Ultra Magnus is interrupted by another loud CLANG of metal smacking against metal. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Get off of me!” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>And, welcome back to The Real Housewives of The Lost Light! In today’s episode ex-warlord Megatron throws a fit because someone’s trying to kill him! But, Ultra Magnus and Perceptor have something to say about it. Stay tuned in for the ever present drama, ‘cause it’s about to get spicy. <br/>
<br/>
</em>
</p><p>“I said calm down!” I can feel Megatron whole body move, and my whole body is now squished up against his frame. <br/>
<br/>
<em><br/>
God, I need some sleep. I’m going crazy. </em></p><p> </p><p>Megatron and Ultra Magnus continue to argue, ignoring my presence. I don’t really mind at the moment, the steadying beat of the spark through the grey armour dragging my tired body closer to sleep. <em>Is it bad I’m enjoying this? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Rodimus and the others will stop Brainstorm. I was going to send them after him when you attacked me,” the voice of reason growls out, “Now can you let liaison (y/n) go, and we can get back to saving your life?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Part of me wants to shout and scream at Perceptor for robbing me of the sleep that had almost taken over me. The other part of me wanted to hug him and thank him for not letting me be squashed. </p><p><em><br/>
<br/>
</em>Megatron sends me a sheepish look, “Attack? I didn’t attack you I was...” I raise an eyebrow up at him, and his ruby optics are quick to dart away. “Besides, Rodimus? You want me to put my life in the hands of someone who somersaults on the bridge?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Oh come on-“<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”Don’t try and defend him, I’ve seen you doing them too liaison,” crossing my arms, I shift my own gaze on the screen, “This is the same mech who pretends to be dead when you ask him a difficult question,” A snicker slips out of mouth, but I’m quick to cover it up with a cough after the sharp red optics bore down at me, “An Autobot who in response to a morale crisis, creates a reward system based on his own face?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”You didn’t seem to have a problem with it when Optimus Prime’s life was on the line,” the red and blue bot snaps, placing an angry digit on his chassis.</p><p><br/>
“What? Don’t sound smart it makes you look stupid.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>I genuinely laugh at that, “You’re even starting to sound like him Megatron.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>I thank whatever God’s are out there he didn’t launch me at the wall then and there. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Even if letting you loose in the time stream was a good idea, it’s too late,” Perceptor points a round digit at the blue screen displaying a dead battery, “There was enough energy to make one more jump, and I just needed to move the others.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“But-“</p><p><br/>
”No Megatron, you need to back off, calm down, and shut up! In that order!” </p><p><br/>
<em>Housewife Perceptor is not dealing with Megatron’s bullshit, the tension in the room is thick.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What is wrong with me?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Right, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>Ultra Magnus leans over holding one of those stupid looking Rodimus badges, “Neatest handwriting, what’d you get?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Letting out a sigh, he holds his own up, “For abandoning my evil ways.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”I don’t have one,” I shrug when the ex-warlord sends me a questioning look. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The other mech lets out a grunt, “Why am I not surprised.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Housewife (y/n) is about to ask Megatron to hold her purse while she kicks some aft.</em>
</p><p><br/>
The scientist in the room is quick to shift the attention back to the matter at hand. Time ticks by, as we wait for another progress report from the bots on the other side of the phone. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes go by, and  no update. I can feel the bot underneath me getting tenser with every second that went by. Finally, Ultra Magnus grabs the phone lifting it up to his off-white dermas. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Rodimus? What’s happening?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>A dreary silence encompasses the room for a moment, before a soft crackle come from the phone.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”It’s Megatron,” the co-captain says, “he’s dead, extremely dead.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What?” Said mech’s voice comes out barely above a whisper.</p><p><br/>
Rewind is the next person to speak up. I’m surprised to learn the small mech had been the one to take the shot, but as he goes on to explain I can’t help but agree. He explains that with Megatron’s death, the Senate stays in power, until it’s replaced by a Functionist Council. The state he describes Cybertron in is nothing less than awful. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“-But,” he pauses, “For everyone else, everyone outside Cybertron, it’s fantastic! Without Megatron there’s no infiltration protocol, no neo-terrorism, no rush to cyberform the galaxy. Other worlds are left alone, countless lives are saved. Megatron dies, and we lose, but-“ the air is thick, and a dryness settles itself onto my throat, “-the universe wins.” </p><p><br/>
“I-uh-yeah, I can’t argue with that,” Rodimus replies. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Different voices continue to carry through the phone, but I tune them out. Judging by the shocked look on Megatron’s faceplates he’s in just as much denial as me. What’s left to do? Wait to disappear? Sit around waiting for our lives to rewrite themselves? </p><p><br/>
“Where’s Megatron?” Tailgate asks, the sound barely being picked up by the phone.</p><p><br/>
“Nobody saw him move?!” Rodimus shouts.</p><p><br/>
“He didn’t move,” It is Cyclonus this time, his grim tone filling the air around us, “He was taken.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Whirl?” <em>Of course it’s Whirl, </em>“What’re you doing? Is that Brainstorm’s spark?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Don’t be silly, it’s his spare!” His chipper tone is a drastic change to the atmosphere, “Saw it poking out of his chassis. He must’ve snagged the point one percenter while we were on Luna 1. The little scamp.” </p><p><br/>
“And you’re going to put it in Megatron?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Pfft, spark transplants, how hard can they be? Harder than fixing a watch? I think not.” </p><p><br/>
“Hand me that fucking phone,” I grunt out, and Utlra Magnus slowly sets the phone infront of me, “Whirl you crazy bitch can you hear me?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Darling? Is that you?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You hate Megatron, what the hell are you doing?”</p><p><br/>
“Yes! I do, but do you know who I hate more? The Functionists. Megatron’s death creates a Functionist future, and if that happens it means they get the last laugh,” static is all that comes from his side for a few seconds, “And, I’m not letting that happen! I’m not gonna let it happen Squash.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Whirl-“ I start, before being quickly interrupted.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”What? Don’t? It’ll save someone you love? Someone back home on Earth you lost to one of our bots?” I can feel every optic in the room on me, and heat begins to crawl through my body. “No, no our sexy little liaison would never be so selfish. I read your little file, you know? At least what your government left public, which is surprisingly quite a bit. Carrier dies in a car accident when you were sixteen, so they ship you away to live in a new country. How sad. Then, just as you start being happy what happens? Ah, yes of course you’re kidnapped by your Sire. And, who comes to be your knight in shining armour sweetspark?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“That’s classified,” my tone is flat, and my arms rest on my biceps nails digging into the flesh there. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Of course, but I think we all know what classified means right? Cybertronians. Your own race didn’t even come to your rescue did they?” A short snicker from Whirl is the only reply he needs, “So answer me this fleshy, has anybot ever directly hurt you?”</p><p> </p><p>”No,” I snap, “I’m not trying to defend every member of my species you fucking dumbass! There’s good people out there, everywhere not just on my planet!”  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Then decide,” He chirps, “Does he live? Are you going to sentence all the bots you care about to eons of torture and oppression? To what? Save a couple members of your species that’s done nothing but take form you? Or, do you save us? Your friends, your family, your... lover~?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Shut up Whirl! I can’t-“ The words catch in my throat, “You know I can’t make that decision.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Static once again is all the flows from his side of the phone. Shame, guilt, and a newfound disgust fills my body. <em>This is- this is all too much. I can’t choose, who am I to value one race over the other? I’m nothing but-but some girl from fucking Canada. A nobody.<br/>
<br/>
</em></p><p>“I know cutie,” the one-opticed mech sighs, “I’ve already put the spark back in.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“YOU SICK BASTARD!” The mechs in the room wince from the sudden loudness of my voice.</p><p> </p><p>”(Y/n)-“ Rodimus is the one to speak through the phone now.</p><p> </p><p>”Shove it Captain,” I snarl, “Megatron, open the door,” when no one moves, I spit out a, “Please.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The mech is slow in his walk to the door opening it up, and setting me down with a softness I didn’t know he possessed. I didn’t really care at the moment though. Right now I didn’t care about much, other than the burning need to murder Whirl and go to my room to question once more why the fuck I’m still alive? <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Liaison (y/n),” Ultra Magnus is the one to call out to me now, “I think it’d be best to keep this from your government.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Go fuck yourself,” is all I say, pivoting on my heel and walking down the hall.</p><p><br/>
————</p><p>Storming into the room, I grab the closest thing and chuck it against the wall with full force. The datapad I’d grabbed cracks and fizzles for a moment before dying out. Letting out a yell, I begin to tear the room apart. Anger, shame, disgust, and sadness all boil up and over, fuelling me more. A picture frame is my next target, hitting the wall above my bed. Glass rains down onto the sheets, and my rage decides it’s the next to go. The beds flipped over and shoved to the other side of the room in seconds. Drawers from my dresser are my next victims, ripped from their rails to join the my bed on the other side of the room. </p><p> </p><p><em>It’s all your fault, </em>my brain screams, <em>if you had stopped your Mom from leaving that night, maybe that drunk idiot wouldn’t have hit her. But, no you had to say, “Go out and have fun on your date Mom! Love ya!” Idiot! </em>A loud swear leaves my mouth as another datapad hits the hard metal walls. <em>And your Dad? Come on. You could’ve escaped, you could’ve left. You let him do it, you enjoyed it. Just like you let the only woman you love slip through your fingers. So, what does pathetic little (y/n) do? She runs away, right into the next adventure right? </em>One of the dumbbells is thrown, hitting the door with a loud BANG! <em>God, and then what does this useless piece of shit do? Not save millions, if not billions of people. Not save her own people. Pathetic.</em></p><p><br/>
My anger reaches its peak, fire lacing my veins, threatening to spill out. The rhythm of my breathing at this point is out of control, and every limb on my body is shaking. I don’t really have time to care, as I’ve already picked my next target. Dragging it by one end, I spin, launching the squat bar at the wall beside the door, creating a sizeable dent. Standing there for a moment, the only sound I can hear is my ragged breathing and the voice in my head. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>God, look at the mess you made. But, then again you’re not good for much else are you? </em><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“(y/n)?” I don’t hear the doors slide open, and I don’t chose to acknowledge the bot talking to me. My eyes stay locked on the dent I’d created in the adjacent wall. “(Y/n), please Megatron commed me, what’s happening?” The words come out as background noise, washed out in the sea of words in my head. “(Y/n)!” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>A large servo clasps my shoulder, and I feel it. I hear it. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Ratchet,” I sob out, tears pouring down my cheeks. He envelopes me into him, pressing my small form against his. Shushing me, a digit rubs up and down my back slowly. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I’m here,” he says, “I’m here.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>My whole rib cage shutters, and I screw my eyes shut. We just stay there like that for a moment. In the aliens arms, I was no longer the fearless professionally trained agent, I wasn’t the cocky University student, and I wasn’t the crazy teenager. The episode I’m having reverts me back, back to the scared little kid running to Mommy for help. The realization I’d allowed myself to slip back so easily to such a feeble state alarmed me. I’m a grown ass woman, and because of a few words from some asshole I’m forced back into this weaker, reliant version of myself. </p><p><br/>
My mom’s voice rings out in my head, and I curl further into Ratchet’s hold. Her soft voice comforts me, as I remember a time I’d fallen off the swing set and scraped my knees. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Oh, (y/n), it’s okay. C’mon, big girls don’t cry.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” I mutter out, the tears slowing. My cheek presses up against the comfort of his chassis, whimpering for the caring touch.</p><p> </p><p>His blue optics peer down at me, “Don’t apologize, never apologize. Having an episode like this is okay, in fact after what you been through I’d be worried if you didn’t have any issues.” The medic jokes softly, shifting his dermas into the saddest smile I’ve ever seen.</p><p><br/>
”You know for someone who’s such a hardass, you sure can be a real teddy bear,” I tease, whipping the tears from my cheeks. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Haha, yes well, don’t let the secret out,” Ratchet’s smile loses some it’s sadness, before pressing into a firm frown. “What happened?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Sucking in a shaky breath, I think back over the past day. Then I let everything come tumbling out.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p>Third Person POV:</p><p><br/>
Once the crew had returned from the past, they were quick to scurry off to Swerve’s. Some to celebrate that they’d made it back in one piece, and some to avoid the awkwardness of dealing with Whirl or the liaison. Megatron was quick to follow the humans example, retreating to his habsuite to collect his thoughts. Ultra Magnus didn't stick around long either, realizing he was likely to get another lecture from his fellow crew mates for his treatment of the liaison. However, the only bot who seems to be torn on where to go is Rodimus. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The sunset coloured mech stands in the hallway, shifting his optics quickly from the right to the left. To Swerve’s? To drink with his friends, and try to forget what they’d done? Or to (Y/n)? To try and comfort her after what Whirl had put her through. He shifts on his pedes, weighing his options. The co-captain would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious, he had no idea the little human’s life had so much darkness in it. But, at the same time she is so private, would she even want him to acknowledge it? <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Letting out a groan of frustration, he finally chooses. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Swerve’s is packed full, bots filling every booth and taking up every barstool. The dance floor filled to the brim with the moving bodies of Cybertronians. Rodimus barely is able to squeeze through them to reach the minibot behind the bar. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Hey Captain, what can I get ya?” The short red and white mech asks, sliding a glass of high grade down to a bot on the other side of the bar. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Just the usual,” leaning backwards, the taller bots optics scan over the crowd. They’re quick to spot the guilty helicopter over by the booths chatting with Riptide. A small flare of anger strikes across Rodimus’s plates, but he tries to control it. He’s captain after all, and he isn’t really sure if it’s his place to say something. Feeling a tap on his back plating, he turns, thanking Swerve for the drink. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“WHIRL!” The drink does not last long in the bots intake. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Ratchet storms into the room, marching right up to the bot. Cybertronian’s are quick to move out of his way, scared for their own fate if they didn’t. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Hey Doc, what’s popping?” The amber opticed mech chirps. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Wasting no time, the medic wraps a servo around Whirl’s neck cables, and starts to drag him back towards the door he’d just came through.  The blue mech puts up a fight, but is quick to give up once he realizes it’s not getting anywhere. Spinning back around to face the minibot, Rodimus sends him an award winning smile.</p><p> </p><p>”Actually, I’d like to change my order Swerve.”</p><p><br/>
Ratchet only lets go of Whirl once they’re out of the bar, glaring down at him in disgust. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Geez Doc!” The mech coughs out, “Be easy on me would ya?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What the pits is wrong with you?” The other bot snaps, balling his servos into fists at his side. He didn’t need to be the reason a mech is sent to the medbay, then he’d have the displeasure of having to patch the psycho bot back up. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Oh, so that’s what this is about?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What else would it be about? How could you ask that of her? After reading her file, you know what she’s been through, the trauma she suffers. So why?” Ratchet questions.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I don’t know, to get a reaction I guess? Squishy will be fine, I don’t see what the fuss is about,” The blue Cybertronian begins to walk away, heading back towards the noise of the busy bar. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Whirl,” The medic calls out, “Don’t lie, you’re terrible at it.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What does it matter why I did it?! Why do you care?” He snarls, crossing his clawed servos across his cockpit. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The two are interrupted as a bot slips out from the busy room ahead, strutting towards them. Rodimus slips past the steaming bot and gives a quick nod to Ratchet. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I’ll go check on her.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Neither mech says anything to the co-captain, waiting for him to turn down the hall before continuing their stare down. Exventing softly, the medic places his servos over his optics. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Whirl-“</p><p> </p><p>”The Squash reminds me of myself okay? There, you got you wanted now frag off,” The bot snaps, storming back towards the loud bar. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“So what? (Y/n) reminded you of yourself so you thought you’d be a complete aft to her? How does that make sense?!” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Look Doc,” the blue bot turns, placing a long clawed digit on Ratchets’ faceplate, “When you spend thousands of years being the craziest, most fragged up mech in the room, you don’t take kindly to someone who could beat you at your own game.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”So, you felt threatened because someone has the same issues as you? Whirl that’s-“<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>”Crazy? Kinda the point Docbot,” the helicopter spares him one last look before stomping off back into bar. Ratchet’s left alone in the hallway, and alone with his thoughts. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p><em>If what Whirl’s saying is true... she’s gotten worse,</em> he thinks a deep frown filling up his grey faceplates. Leaving in the opposite direction as the other bot, he makes his way back to his own habsuite. <em>I’ll have to talk to her, and Rung. I can’t believe she’s been hiding this from me, I wonder how long it’s been this bad for. Primus, I’m too old for this. </em>Rounding a corner, he pauses in his journey. <em>Should I check on her? </em>Shaking his helm, Ratchet resumes his walk. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s with Rodimus right now, maybe I should just give her space. I mean, what could go wrong?</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Red Red Wine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mentions of alcohol and seggsy time ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My head is pounding, my stomach is doing the most impressive gymnastic routine I’ve ever seen, and my mouth is like the Sahara desert. Sitting up, I realize whatever I must’ve been sleeping on is cold and hard. <em>A metal berth? </em>Running a hand through the rat nest I call my hair, I blink taking in the room around me. It’s definitely not my habsuite, judging by how it hasn’t been trashed. But, it stills feels familiar as though I’d been in here before. Groaning, I hold my head praying the headache that is stabbing at my brain would disappear. After a few seconds it dies down enough that I can hear a soft thrumming noise from behind me. <em>Oh god. </em>Slowly turning my head, I come face to face with a nine foot tall passed out Rodimus. A slight smile encompasses his faceplates, the soft thrumming noise being the steady beat of his spark while in recharge.<br/><br/></p><p><em>He looks like an angel,</em> I blink, then the panic sets in.</p><p>
  <em><br/>What the actual fuck, what the actual fucking fuck.<br/><br/></em>
</p><p>Scrambling away from the snoring bot, I try to calm my rapid breathing. <em>What even happened last night? </em>Shuffling slowly over to the edge of the berth, I start to scale my way down. <em>We’ve cuddled before, but never fucking slept beside each other! </em>Jumping the rest of the way down, my bare feet hit the floor with a dull thud. Flinching at the noise, I look back at the berth, but the steady thrum of Rodimus’s spark continues. As I make my way to the door, I rake my brain for any shred of what happened last night. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Last thing I remember, he’d come to ask if I needed to talk...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p>Ratchet had been gone for awhile now, saying he was going to have a ‘little chat with Whirl’. Usually I’d be worried for the poor bot, but right now I’m thoroughly pissed at the asshole. Leaning against my flipped over bed, I let out a long sigh, rubbing a few stray tears away. <em>I can’t believe I let him get to me like that. I haven’t freaked out like that since... well since right after it happened. </em>Shuddering as memories rush by, I quickly try to think about something else before I’m sent into another crying fit. <br/><br/></p><p>A loud knock on my habsuite door interrupts my inner turmoil, and I jump at the noise.<br/><br/></p><p>”(y/n)? You in there?” Rodimus’s delicate tone slips through the door. <br/><br/></p><p>I debate simply not answering before letting out a shaky, “Yes?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Can I come in?” <br/><br/></p><p>Looking around the room, I gulp at the mess I’d made. Weighing my options, I figure what could possibly go wrong by letting the sunset coloured bot in? </p><p> </p><p>After telling him yes, he is quick to open the doors. His optics don’t even bother giving the destruction a glance, focusing solely on my shaking form. A worried look crosses his faceplates, and he kneels down offering me his servo that isn’t full of bright pink cubes. Eyeing the yellow digits, I once again weigh my options before crawling on. Moving to sit fully on his aft, Rodimus gives me the softest look.</p><p> </p><p>”You want me to tell you about it don’t you? My past?” I remark, copying his stance by sitting with my legs folded over each other.<br/><br/></p><p>Letting out a hum, he shakes his helm from left to right, “No, you don’t have to unless you want to.” <br/><br/></p><p>I blink for a moment, “You’re not at all curious? I’m sure you’re dying to know the new hot gossip.”</p><p><br/>The co-captain giggles at that, setting the stack of pink cubes down to pat the top of my head softly, “Sure I am, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters, is you, now.” <br/><br/></p><p>The bot has me stunned for a second, <em>who knew Rodimus could be so... so sweet? </em><em>I mean he’s always been nice but, he doesn’t shy away from being a nosy aft.</em><br/><br/></p><p>“What I am saying is, I’m here to help you,” he rolls his vibrant turquoise optics, “Not just get the deets on your tragic past.” <br/><br/></p><p>“O-oh,” a slight blush fills my face, “Well, thanks Rodimus, I-I don’t know what to say.” <br/><br/></p><p>Using his free servo to rub circles on my back, the mech flashes his denta at me, “Anytime (y/n),” we just sit there like that for a while, and I begin to mimic his motions on my back, onto his servo with my small hands. Taking in a short intake of air, he opens his derma once more, “So, what can I do to help?” <br/><br/></p><p>Turning to look at a my mini-fridge which is one of the few things I hadn’t trashed, an idea pops into my head.<br/><br/></p><p>”Can we just forget for a night?”<br/><br/></p><p>”Forget what?”<br/><br/></p><p>”Forget our responsibilities, forget who we are, just be free for a night. Pretend we’re just two normal people?” I stare up at Rodimus with hopeful (e/c) eyes, praying I didn’t come across as needy or whiny. <em>Or weird. <br/><br/></em></p><p>“So... in other words you wanna get wasted?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Yep,” I pop the ‘p’, slipping off his servo softly to the floor. <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh, liaison now you’re speaking my language,” letting out a low laugh, he shoots me a wink. Standing up he grabs his stack of neon pink cubes, and I follow suit grabbing my own booze from the pale red mini-fridge. Eyeing a lone bottle of wine above the fridge, I weigh my options for a final time that night. <em>Fuck it, I need it tonight. </em>Grabbing it, I turn on my heel and into Rodimus’s awaiting servo. <br/><br/></p><p>————</p><p>Reaching the door to Rodimus’s habsuite, I stop and stare up at the behemoth of a door before me. <em>Shit, I forgot that kinda need a bot to open this. </em>Plopping myself down, I just now realize my current state of undress. At some point in the night I must’ve taken my pants off, because I was only left in my simple knit sweater and underwear. Blushing furiously, I tug the hem of the sweater down to try and cover more skin. My pants had somehow ended up all the way on the other side of Rodimus’s berth. Swearing to myself, I begin my journey to sneak over there without waking up the snoring bot. On my way over, I run my fingers through the jungle of knots in my hair, trying to make it resemble it’s normal state. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>I remember going back to his room last night, and I remember sitting down on his desk to drink. But... I don’t recall much beyond that. What the hell happened? And God please don’t let it be what I think it is.<br/><br/></em>
</p><p>Finally reaching my pants, I quickly slide them on, zipping up the zipper as quietly as possible. <br/><br/></p><p>“(Y/n)?” Apparently not quietly enough. <br/><br/></p><p>“Uh, just down here,” my voice comes out scratchy, which is similar to his own raspiness. I’d be lying if I said the slight rasp in his voice isn’t hot as hell. <em>God, I’m such a horn dog.<br/><br/></em></p><p>”What... happened? I don’t remember anything past... well we were talking and then...”<br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Oh, thank god he doesn’t remember either. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>“I’m uh, not sure,” Rodimus’s helm pops up over the edge of the berth, peering down at me with dull turquoise optics. Exhaustion oozes off his frame, and he slowly reaches down scooping me back up onto the berth. He’s back to his normal size now, curling a large yellow servo around my small form. Laying on his side, we come face-to-faceplate. And, it’s just then I notice that this whole time there’s been an ache between my thighs. <br/><br/></p><p>My face lights on fire.<br/><br/></p><p>”Did we...?” He starts, his own faceplates are dusted with a light blue. I wouldn’t have even seen the faint blush if it wasn’t for our close proximity. <br/><br/></p><p>“Nope, nope-no!” I stutter out, “neither of us remember so let’s just say we didn’t.” <br/><br/></p><p>A strange look crosses his face, almost a mix of hurt, understanding and guilt. And, goddamn if it doesn’t make him look like a pouting puppy. <em>Why did whoever forged this fucker have to make him so cute? </em><br/><br/></p><p>“You wanna pretend it never happened? Jeez, are you sure you don’t remember? You’re talking like it was bad (y/n),” Rodimus mumbles the last part, turning his helm slightly so that most of it is facing the metal of the berth. Only one optic now faces me, watching, waiting for my reaction. The insane adorableness he can achieve in seconds stuns me. Then guilt hits me.<br/><br/></p><p>“Well, I’m sure it was great-“ <br/><br/></p><p>“So then why are you ashamed?” <br/><br/></p><p>I take in a small breath, “Look, I’m not here for fun. I’m here as a liaison of Earth. If my superiors were to find out about this- especially with you, the captain and half prime- I’d be demoted and probably shipped off as soon as possible.” <br/><br/></p><p>“So nothing to do with my... performance?” He asks slyly.</p><p><br/>”Oh my God, Rodimus,” I groan, moving to get up. <br/><br/></p><p>“Okay, Okay! Wait, I’m sorry,” He presses down with his servo, making sure I don’t leave, “Look I get it, I’d probably get in slag too if any bot were to find out. Especially if Ratchet were to. Besides... aren’t you a little curious?” <br/><br/></p><p>“What do you mean curious?” I raise an eyebrow at him, not enjoying the mischievous glint in his optics. <br/><br/></p><p>“You know if it was any good? I mean I know my performance would’ve been amazing. I mean, how did you even walk this morning-“<br/><br/></p><p>“Rodimus!” I shout out in embarrassment, putting a hand over my eyes as the flush on my face only increases. I’m sure by now I must be doing a great imitation of a tomato. <br/><br/></p><p>The softest giggle slips from the dirty mechs derma’s, “What? Are you gonna look me in the optics and tell me your legs don’t feel like you’ve ran for eons?” <br/><br/></p><p>Peeking between my fingers, my vision fills with the sight of that stupid cocky grin. His optics once dull now full of life and practically oozing mischief. <em>He’s planning something in that annoying processor of his. I don’t what it is, but I know it’s trouble. Cocky piece of shit.<br/><br/></em></p><p>”Rodimus?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Yes good looking?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Shutup,” I groan both hands now covering my face. Warm metal presses itself against my hands, a light smacking noise coming from the action. <em>Did he just? </em>Moving my hands away, I go to scold him. But, I choke on my words instantly at the proximity of the bot. His helm is now right in front of mine, his pearly denta peaking out between the soft metal of his derma. Rodimus’s optics are blown wide with curiosity and lust, peering down at my small form still trapped beneath his servo. Time seems to slow down, and my heart starts to gallop. And then, he leans in. <br/><em><br/></em></p><p>
  <em>Is this really happening? </em>
</p><p><br/>”Rodimus?!” Loud banging from the metal doors breaks our trance, both our faces flushing from the interruption. “Rodimus, are you in there? I can’t find (y/n) anywhere!” Ratchet’s voice is angry with a hint of worry cutting through it.</p><p><br/>Flinging myself from the bot, panic fills me. Rodimus and I both move in tandem with each other. We scramble to make ourselves presentable, whether by fixing stray hairs, or fixing some stray plates.</p><p><br/>”Rodimus?!” <br/><br/></p><p>“I’m going to either die of embarrassment or from whatever alien fluids I came into to contact with last night,” I mutter, and the captain barks out a laugh. <br/><br/></p><p>“So now you’ll admit it happened?” He whispers back, offering me his servo after kicking some empty cubes under his desk. <br/><br/></p><p>Straitening my back, I pat the wrinkles out of my clothes. Taking a couple breaths in and out, I feel the heat drain from my face. “Admit what happened?” I bite back. The only reply I get from him is a snarky smirk before the doors slide open. <br/><br/></p><p>The look on Ratchet’s faceplates is definitely anything but impressed. His arms are crossed over his chassis, and the sight of me in his captains’ servo only causes the frown he’s sporting to deepen. Thick tension fills the air, and a whole new atmosphere takes over from the one I’d been in moments ago. Clearing my throat in hopes to make everything go away, I offer my adoptive alien Dad a small wave.<br/><br/></p><p>”Hey Ratch! Sorry, we were hanging out.” <br/><br/></p><p>“All night?” <em>Shit. </em><br/><br/></p><p>“What can I say Doc Bot? I’m good company,” Rodimus shrugs, sending the shorter Autobot a quick wink. <em>Lord help me. <br/><br/></em></p><p>“I fell asleep, and Captain Rodimus here decided he’d just let me sleep,” I add, hoping, no praying that my lie will satisfy the ever raising optic ridge that Ratchet is wearing.<br/><br/></p><p>”It was a great sleepover Ratch, should’ve been there. We had those human pillow fights and everything. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to send you the invite next time,” plopping me into the awaiting servos Ratchet held out, the stupid mech starts walking backward giving us a one finger salute, “See ya later!” <br/><br/></p><p>The disappointing gaze of Ratchet is all I’m left with, and I swear I can see the gears in his helm grinding. <em>I’m surprised there’s no steam coming out from his audio receptors. <br/><br/></em></p><p>”You know,” he finally speaks up, heading the opposite way of Rodimus, “I’d ask, but honestly I don’t think I could handle it at this moment.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Fair enough. But, I promise nothing happened.” Giving him my biggest ‘please for the love of god believe I’m innocent’ eyes. I only get a huff in return. <br/><br/></p><p>“I wasn’t forged this morning (Y/n).” <br/><br/></p><p>Feeling obviously caught red handed, I look away from his analyzing optics. Trailing my eyes along the many groves in the walls, I chew the inside of my cheek. The last couple days catch up to me, and I feel everything hit me at once. The hangover, almost dying, Whirl, Ultra Magnus, and <em>oh God, </em>Rodimus. I haven’t even been on this ship for a year and I’ve already broken about three rules Fowler and my other superiors gave me. Rubbing a hand against my tired eyes, I let a long sigh. <br/><br/></p><p>“You were drinking weren’t you?” Ratchet’s voice cuts through my thoughts. It doesn’t do much to help my ever growing headache however.</p><p><br/>”I’m sorry what?” <br/><br/></p><p>Rolling his glowing blue optics, he really shows off his inner sassiness by pointing an accusing digit at me and cocking his pelvis to the side, “You were drinking. I know that’s what you and Rodimus were hiding. I could smell it coming from his habsuite.” <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Oh, thank Christ. Thank you. Bless you. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>Offering a silent thank you to whatever deity out there is watching out for me, I nod slowly, “Yeah, sorry I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want to disappoint you Ratch.”<br/><br/></p><p>“(Y/n),” he huffs, pausing in front of my habsuite doors, “I’m not disappointed in you. I could never be. But, don’t you think indulging in alcohol, especially after what happened, is smart? That’s not a healthy way to cope, and I know you’re smart enough to know that.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I guess I just wanted to-“<br/><br/></p><p>”-Escape? Of course I get that. I fought a ongoing war for way too fragging long, then shipped myself off voluntarily on a ship captained by Rodimus and Megatron. Trust me, I get it. But, it’s only a temporary fix, you need to work on a permanent one.” All anger has seeped away from his body, worry completely washing it all out. Not knowing what to say or do, I pat a digit softly, nodding slowly. <br/><br/></p><p>“Okay,” I offer him a meek smile.</p><p><br/>”Good, now take a shower you stink.” <br/><br/></p><p><em>Ouch, </em>giving him a thumbs up I head into my still trashed habsuite. Stepping over the mess, I make it to the bathroom eventually, stripping off all my clothes. A sharp hiss slips through my lips when I go to take my pants off, the once dull pain between my legs now very prominent. <em>What’d you expect? You drunkly fucked a skyscraper. The fact your walking is a miracle at this point. </em>Feeling the hot water pour over my sore muscles, I relax. It felt so good to finally being alone. <em>You fucked Rodimus. </em>My thoughts intrude my rare moment of relaxation, causing me to grit my teeth and let my head hit the cold wall of the shower. <em>How are you supposed to continue being an agent now? One of the first rules is don’t fraternize with leaders. Especially ones with religious ties. Well check and check. Dammit. What am I supposed to tell Fowler? Nothing? Nothing right? </em><em>Jesus, what do I say to Rodimus? How do I act around him?</em></p><p><br/>Pausing to watch some water slide down my body, I now just notice subtle love bites scattering across my thighs and lower abdomen.<br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Pretend it never happened. Yeah, that’s a good plan. I mean I don’t even remember it, he doesn’t remember, basically didn’t happen right?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Right?</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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